UNFORGETABLE
by Lady CJ
Summary: It's a time of decisions. Duncan MacLeod must decide whether to continue searching for his bride who has disappeared without a trace or try to go on without her and Kelly McKenny must decide how to deal with the confusing and conflicting memories.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter I**_

Duncan walked out of the airport terminal, stopped and looked at each of the cars parked at the curb to his left, then did the same to his right. A black SUV double parked in front of him and honked its horn. He bent down enough to be able to see inside the SUV as the driver yelled, "Hey Mac", and waved him over.

Duncan hoisted his duffel bag back onto his shoulder and hurried to the SUV. He opened the passenger side rear door and tossed his duffel bag in. As he climbed into the passenger front seat he gave a half hearted smile of appreciation and said simply, "Joe."

Joe Dawson watched Duncan as he got in the front seat and felt concern for his Immortal friend. MacLeod had been gone from Seacouver for nearly three years, two of which were spent searching for his wife, Caitlin.

Three years before a band of renegade Watchers led by a young man who claimed to be James Horton's son, Sidney Horton, abducted Caitlin while she was jogging along the Seacouver shoreline. They had spirited her out of the country on a private jet to parts unknown. They had left a young female Immortal, Roux Bedeux, on the spot on the beach where they'd grabbed Caitlin. Joe had found Roux cowering on the beach, took her home with him, fed her and cleaned her up and got her to trust him enough to tell him some of her story (what she could remember anyway. Roux didn't know how long she had been held by Horton's people, but the entire time she was in their "custody" she had been used as a guinea pig for some sort of experiment. She had been tortured to see how much pain she could endure before dieing and allowed to revive only to go through more torture. She couldn't give much information because her treatment had caused her to literally lose her mind and her memories were so shattered that it was an effort for Joe to learn that much.

A private investigator friend of Duncan and Caitlin's had learned that the private jet had filed a flight plan from Seacouver to Hamburg, Germany. Duncan left for Germany the next morning and had spent the next two years searching for his beloved Caitlin. He finally gave up when every possible lead turned up nothing and it became apparent that she had vanished without a trace.

Duncan had spent the last year somewhere in Scotland in seclusion trying to come to terms with his loss. He had finally phoned Joe a week ago and announced that he would be coming home; that it was time to move on and Joe had offered to pick him up at the airport.

Joe hadn't seen his Immortal friend in three years and had only talked to him a few times on the phone and, with the exception of the most recent call; the calls were during Duncan's two year search. The Duncan MacLeod he saw now didn't surprise him much. He actually expected him to look much worse than he did. But his sorrow was evident. Duncan also looked exhausted and Joe figured it was from not only a lack of sleep but he probably worked himself so hard physically trying to fight his "demons". Joe had seen it before, only not to this extent. Joe felt for his friend. He knew how much Duncan had loved Caitlin. They had shared such a strong connection and had seemed to complete each other in so many ways. The fact that Duncan had married Caitlin. showed the world how much he had loved her. She had become his whole world. Now she was gone. Vanished without a trace. "How does someone find closure in this kind of circumstance?" Joe wondered. He doubted he'd be as strong as Duncan. He doubted that he would be able to go on if he were in Duncan's shoes.

Not really knowing what to say...and knowing that words were never needed between them before, Joe waited until Duncan was strapped in then slowly pulled away from the curb and headed for the city. He said simply, "It's good to see you Mac."

Duncan took in a shaky breath and continued to look out the passenger window as he said quietly, "Thanks, Joe. For everything."

"That's what friends are for", Joe smiled.

They rode in silence the rest of the way into the city. Then, just before the freeway off ramp, Joe asked, "Do you want me to drop you somewhere? Or come back to the bar with me?"

Duncan thought it over. He really hadn't planned anything past getting here. It had taken him a year to get the courage up to return to Seacouver. He wasn't sure he was going to be able to go through with it. Not until the plane actually left the ground in Scotland was he convinced he could. Six times in the last year he had purchased a ticket to Seacouver and five times he had turned it back in. Now, seeing the Seacouver skyline he wishes he had stayed in Scotland because the memories are flooding back.

As if reading his friend's mind, Joe said, "You know, Mac...you don't have to do this all at once. No one will fault you if you want to take it one step at a time."

Duncan glanced at Joe and saw the understanding in Joe's eyes. "Thanks, Joe", he said softly. "The bar's fine."

"Good," Joe said simply and turned off the freeway. He pulled into the parking lot of his bar and parks. He got out of the SUV at the same time Duncan did and watched Duncan get his duffel bag out of the back seat. To him, Duncan looked like a robot on auto-pilot. Joe led the way into the bar.

As Duncan entered the bar behind Joe, he was overcome with the familiarity of it. He looked around at the empty bar and was reminded of many happy times here. He felt tears well up in his eyes and no matter how hard he tried he can't stop them.

Joe went behind the bar and said, "Come on, Mac. Come have a drink."

Suddenly Duncan's head filled with the buzzing sensation signifying the presence of another Immortal and as he looked up he hears, "A little early for that don't you think, Joe?" He turned to see Methos coming out of Joe's office.

Methos strode up to Duncan and gave him a brotherly hug which Duncan returned.

"Welcome home, MacLeod," Methos said.

Duncan managed a weak smile. "Thanks," he said and stepped up to the bar taking a seat on one of the stools. He found himself watching the front door of the bar as if he expected Caitlin to come through it.

Joe looked at Duncan and watched him worriedly for a few minutes then glanced at Methos. When Duncan turned back to face the two men, he had a cold, hardened expression on his face. His brown eyes were almost black and his jaw is set.

"Mac..." Joe started. Duncan held his hand up to stop Joe from saying anything else.

"I'm fine, really." He said unconvincingly. "It's just a lot harder than I thought it would be."

"Maybe you weren't ready," Methos said quietly.

"As ready as I'm going to be," Duncan said and swallowed the scotch in his glass in one gulp. "As ready as I can be."

"Like I told you on the phone, Mac," Joe said as he poured another shot into Duncan's glass. "We're here for you. Whatever you need...just name it."

Duncan gulped down the scotch and put his duffel bag on his shoulder and stood up. He looked at Methos and Joe and gave them, a half hearted smile. "Thanks."

"Leaving already?" Methos asked.

Duncan nodded. "I need to do this on my own," he said. "Thanks for everything." He turned and started walking toward the backdoor.

"Mac..." Joe said.

"Please, Joe," Duncan stopped just feet away from the door and spoke without looking back. There was a part of him that wished one of them would come force him back and a part of him that wanted to do this alone.

Joe looked down at the floor, leaned against the bar sink and shook his head.

"Keep in touch, Mac," Methos said from his stool. "You know?"

"Yeah," Duncan said almost inaudibly and walked out the door into the Seacouver morning air.

Inside the bar, Methos and Joe exchanged looks.

"He'll be OK, Joe," Methos said.

"You trying to convince me or yourself?" Joe asked.

Methos looked at the door and said simply, "Right."

Outside, Duncan looked around. He adjusted the weight of his duffel bag and flagged down a passing cab. He gave the driver his destination and the cab pulled away from the curb. It drove through the heart of the city headed for the east side of town. Duncan stared blankly out the passenger window. Memories passed through his mind like silent home movies. Soon the cab had left the business district of the city and had entered the residential district.

The driver steered the cab onto a quiet street that had very few houses visible. He slowed as he approached a driveway that disappeared into a wooded area.

"Is this it?" The driver asked.

"Yeah," Duncan answered. "You can let me out here." He sat forward and paid the driver and got out of the cab. He waited until the cab had pulled away and slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and started up the winding driveway.

The driveway was approximately 1/4 of a mile long and led to a house set on a three acre parcel on the edge of one of Seacouver's rain forests. The house was an "A" frame style with a large picture window in the front. It had a covered porch that extended the full front of the house with a porch swing and a wicker love seat and two chairs.

Duncan stopped at the end of the driveway and looked around. His gaze stopped at a tree stump in the middle of the front yard. His vision became blurred as he continued to stare at the stump, a faraway look in his eyes.

_Caitlin dressed in a pair of cut offs and a tank top has the garden hose in hand and is in the middle of washing the T-Bird. Duncan comes out of the house and walks toward the car. _

_"You missed a spot," he teases._

_Caitlin sets the hose down and stands on the stump to reach the top of the car with the soapy sponge. She looks around. _

_"Where?" she asks._

_Duncan hurries up behind her and scoops her off the log. _

_"Here," Duncan teases. He takes the sponge and squeezes the soapy _

_water onto Caitlin and laughs._

_Caitlin squeals. "Oh you brat!" _

_"Me? Yep," Duncan laughs._

_Caitlin wriggles free and picks up the hose and turns it on Duncan. _

_"Oh yeah?" She quips. _

_Duncan jumps back trying to avoid the spray from the hose, but is unsuccessful. _

_"Well take that," Caitlin laughs._

_Duncan tries to dodge the spray to get to Caitlin but she opens the nozzle all the way and drenches him. Duncan starts laughing. Soaked, he lunges for Caitlin and grabs the hose, turning it on her. _

_"ahhh!" she yells. _

_"There. You take THAT, you brat!" Duncan says. _

_Caitlin squeals and runs for cover on the other side of the car. _

_Duncan ducks down and slowly works his way around the car trying _

_to catch her. He quickly stands and sprays over the top of the car. _

_Caitlin grabs the bucket of soapy water as she skirts around the back of the T-bird. She comes around to his side and dumps the bucket's contents on him. She drops the empty bucket and turns to run away. Duncan grabs her and pulls her onto the muddy ground. _

_"Not so fast, you!" He laughs._

_Caitlin is giggling. She turns over on her back and looks up at him. Duncan brushes her hair from her face, leaving a streak of mud on her cheek. He chuckles. _

_"Oh. You think that's funny, huh?" She says._

_"Yes, I do," he answers. He sticks his hand in the mud and rubs her other cheek with mud. _

_Caitlin grabs a handful of mud and rubs it on his face. Duncan sputters. _

_"Yeah. You're right; it is funny. Now," Caitlin teases._

_Duncan rubs a dollop of mud across her nose. _

_"Oooooo...you're asking for it mister," she laughs. _

_"Guess I am at that," Duncan smirks._

_Caitlin pulls his shirt tail up and puts mud on his back under his shirt._

_"Ewwww...," he groans._

_Caitlin tries to playfully wriggle out from under him._

_Duncan takes a big glob of mud and drops it down the front of her tank top. Caitlin gasps in surprise and because the mud is cold. _

_"OK. You wanna play that way?" She says._

_"What are you going to do about it, huh?" Duncan taunts._

_Caitlin shoves a handful of soapy mud down the back of his pants._

_"oh, no! Not there," he exclaims and smears mud down both her legs. _

_Caitlin uses his distraction and manages to wiggle free. She reaches for the hose which is just inches out of reach. He rolls over just in time to get hosed down. _

_"oh! That's cold!" He howls._

_Caitlin takes the nozzle and pushes it past his belt and down the front of his jeans. _

_"No fair!" He says and tries to pull the hose out of his pants._

_Caitlin leaves it there and jumps up and runs as fast as she can toward the house. _

_Duncan gets the hose and aims it at Caitlin as she runs toward the house but she reaches the porch and opens the front door before he can spray her. She turns around to face him and sticks out her tongue at him then disappears into the house. _

Duncan looked up from the stump and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. It seemed like it was only yesterday that they were laughing and so full of love and happiness. He took a shaky breath and walked slowly towards the front porch.

**_TO BE CONTINUED_**


	2. Chapter 2

The sunlight filtered through the blinds in the small hospital room. In the only bed in the room lay a young woman, her head wrapped in bandages. She opened her eyes and turned her head slowly towards the window. Through the partially open blinds she could see a billboard on a building across the street

but she was unable to make out what it said because she didn't speak Greek. She turned her head back so that she was staring at the

ceiling and closed her eyes because the pain in her head was throbbing. She tried once more to remember how she ended up in a hospital bed.

She could remember her and her family getting into a small plane. She, her husband, Paul, and her two stepchildren, Mark and Laurie, had been vacationing in Greece. They had chartered a private pontoon plane and had planned to fly over to a small island off the Greek coast. It was supposed to be a great fishing spot and filled with history. She remembered them getting into the plane, vaguely remembered the take off and remembered circling the island. From that point on everything got fuzzy. The most vivid memory after that was one of being inside something that seemed to be tumbling and screams...she can remember screams. Then there was nothing until she woke up in the room and a massive headache.

They, the doctor and nurses, told her that the plane had crashed, the reason had yet to be determined, and that she had been the only survivor. The fact that she, alone, survived the crash doesn't surprise her because, unknown to the hospital staff, she was an Immortal. What did surprise her was that her head injury hadn't healed yet. She knew she must have been conscious when rescuers got to them or they wouldn't have transported her to the hospital, she would have awakened in the morgue. But try as she might she couldn't remember anything of reviving after the crash, being rescued, being transported to the hospital or any thing that went on in the emergency room. Nothing until she woke up in the room a few hours before.

She thought about her family. Even those memories were more like dreams than memories. She attributed that to whatever medication they had in her IV. She pictured Paul's face and felt a distant sadness. She remembered their wedding, a quick and private ceremony in front of a local Justice of the Peace in their hometown of Sausalito, California, although not vividly. She could vaguely remember their brief honeymoon which was a weekend spent in a quaint bed and breakfast in the Napa Wine Country. She remembered that they loved each other (although not an earth shattering love) and she remembered feeling comfortable, content and secure with Paul which made her wonder, briefly, why she didn't feel sadder about losing him. This, too, she attributed to whatever medication they had her on.

Eventually she fell back to sleep. She dreamed, but her dreams were fragmented and confusing. Faces of people she didn't know, places she couldn't remember ever being.

A few hours later the young woman woke up again. She was feeling a bit unsettled by her dreams but blamed it on the medication that was dripping into her arm. She lifted her hand to the bandage on her head and pressed it around her scalp. She experienced no pain so she determined that she had healed. Now she had to figure out how to get out of the hospital before a doctor or nurse came in to examine her wound and found it healed.

She knew that she had no clothes, that the clothes she was wearing would have been discarded because of the blood and tatters. She was not sure how she knew this because she didn't remember any part of being in the emergency room, but somehow she knew it to be standard procedure. On the empty bed that shared the room was a hospital gown folded and awaiting a patient. She sat up and disconnected her IV. She got out of bed, slowly at first, walked over to the empty bed and put the hospital gown on backwards.

She removed the bandage from her head and tiptoed to the door. She opened it slowly and peered out into the hall. There were a few nurses, patients and patient's visitors milling around the nurses desk a few yards to her left. She looked to her right and saw, about 10 feet away, a sign over a door. Since she didn't speak Greek she couldn't read what it said, but it has a red arrow pointing to the door below it and she took it to mean "EXIT". She looked back to her left. When she was sure no one was watching her she slipped out of the door, letting it close quietly behind her and hurried to the door under the sign.

She tried the door. It was unlocked so she slipped through it, closed it quietly and looked around. She was in a stairwell. She went to the railing and listened both above her and below her. Hearing nothing she headed down the stairs taking two at a time.

When she reached the second to the last landing she stopped and listened at the door that led out of the stairwell. She opened the door just enough to peek out.

She was on the main floor of the hospital. Across from her was an open door that led to an office. To the left of her was a hallway with similar open doors all the way down and on both sides. To the right was a short hallway that opened into a large lobby which was buzzing with people coming, going and milling around.

She slipped through the door and headed down the hallway to her left. She managed to pass by the open doors unnoticed. She started to skirt around an empty wheel chair when a janitor pushing a mop bucket and mop came out of one of the offices further down. She dropped into the wheel chair, put her elbow on its arm and rested her head in her hand. She turned the chair slightly so she could watch the janitor.

The janitor disappeared through a door and returned seconds later empty handed, turned left and walked down the hall and disappeared around the corner at the end.

She waited a few seconds to make sure the janitor didn't turn around and come back and she got out of the wheel chair and hurried down the hall to the door that the janitor had gone into and then come out of.

When she got to that door she saw that it was a utility room with shelves filled with cleaning supplies, blankets and old pillows. On one wall were several hooks with a few old lab coats hanging from them. Next to these was a trash can that had discarded paper booties. She slipped into the room, grabbed two small booties out of the trash can and put them on her bare feet. She removed a lab coat from one of the hooks and put it on. She tore a string from one of the dry mops hanging on the back wall and tied her hair back into a ponytail.

She walked out of the utility room, head held high and shoulders back and her hands in her pockets. She turned right and headed for the lobby. She walked through the lobby and out the front door, down the hospital entrance walkway to the loading curb and crossed the driveway to the parking structure.

Inside the multilevel parking structure she made her way to the other side where she followed the arrows that pointed the way to the exits. She chose an exit and slipped through the door.

Now on a major street (determined by the amount of traffic) she stopped and looked around. She had no money to catch a cab and she was really not sure where she was.

"OK...smartass. Now what?" She asked herself.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	3. Chapter 3

Kelly McKenny stood on the sidewalk outside the Greek hospital and looked around trying to figure out what her next move was going to be when a black SUV pulled to the curb. The passenger window came down and a voice from inside said, "Get in, Mrs. McKenny." She bent down and looked into the vehicle and looked at the man in the driver's seat.

At first she didn't recognize him, then her memory unfogged and she nodded and opened the door, getting into the passenger seat.

"What are you doing in Greece?" She asked.

"I heard about your accident and I was on my way to the hospital to see if there was anything I could do to help," the man answered. "I'm sorry about your family. We all are."

"Yeah...I'll bet," she said sarcastically.

The man looked at her and smiled wanly. "You're very important to us, Mrs. McKenny. Of course we are concerned." He pulled away from the curb and into the busy street.

"Where are you taking me?" Kelly asked.

"Well, I assumed you'd want to go back to your hotel and put on some clothes," the man chuckled.

"Then what?" She asked. "I doubt you came over here just to visit me and pay your respects."

"I figured you might need a hand with arrangements," the man answered. Kelly was surprised to hear sincerity in his voice. "I'm sure you have never had to deal with something like this before and customs in these matters can be a pain in the ass."

Kelly nodded. "You're right. I don't know what to do. I hadn't thought that far ahead yet."

"I'm assuming you want to take your family back to the States."

"Yes...of course," she said. She was still somewhat curious as to why she didn't feel more sadness than she did. "Maybe I'm just in shock and it will hit me later," she thought to herself.

"Do you know where they are?" The man asked as he turned into the entry drive of a posh hotel.

Kelly looked at the front of the building and wondered why it didn't look at all familiar.

"Mrs. McKenny?" The man said.

"Yes...I'm sorry. Actually I didn't stick around the hospital long enough to ask", she answered.

"No problem. I'll call them and find out."

He pulled up to the front door and a valet came around and opened his door at the same time a doorman opened Kelly's door. The doorman tried to hide his curiosity at her attire but she saw it and lowered her head, embarrassed. The man who had picked her up came around the SUV and placed his hand on her elbow and escorted her into the hotel lobby.

Kelly walked up to the front desk. When the clerk came up to her she asked, "May I have the key to my room, please? Room 412." She was surprised that even though the hotel didn't look at all familiar she knew the room number.

"Yes, of course, ma'am." The desk clerk nodded and turned around, plucked a key out of the coinciding mail slot and turned back around, handing Kelly the key. "We're all very sorry about your loss, ma'am," he said softly.

Kelly looked at him and smiled politely. "Thank you."

"If there's anything at all we can do for you..." the clerk said.

"Thank you," Kelly said simply, turned and started walking towards the elevators. She and the man who had picked her up got into one of the elevators when the door opened and rode to the forth floor in silence.

Kelly opened the door to her suite and stepped inside. She looked around. There was a vague sense of familiarity but it was very vague. She dropped the room key on the table by the door and went straight into the bedroom.

"I'll call the hospital while you're freshening up," the man said.

Kelly opened the closet and looked inside. There were a few men's clothes and some women's clothes, but none of them seemed familiar. She chose an outfit and laid it on the bed and went into the bathroom where she turned on the water in the shower, discarded the lab coat, hospital gowns and booties, untied her hair and stepped under the hot water. As she stood in the shower and let the hot water flood over her she thought about her first day in the Organization as if it was yesterday.

She had been recruited because of her Immortality although it had taken several months for her to decide to accept their offer. She was one of four Immortals who were employed by the Organization. They worked side by side with 90 mortals whose job was to make sure that evil Immortals didn't survive. The Organization believed that it didn't necessarily have to "be only one" as long as the "good" ones prevailed. The Organization was also experimenting with ways to turn those "evil" Immortals into "good" Immortals. They didn't want to kill all Immortals because, "Immortals are a necessary part of history. They see more than most historians."

At first Kelly worked along side of the medical research team, and then she was transferred to field operations where she and a mortal teamed up to track certain problem Immortals. When they located their assignment they turned the case over to another specialized team who would neutralize the problem (which Kelly was led to believe meant that the Immortal was taken to their medical facility where attempts were made to change them.). Once an Immortal had been located and the Neutralization team took over, there always seemed to be another assignment that needed immediate attention and Kelly never had the time to follow the process after the case left her hands.

Kelly got out of the shower, dried off and donned one of the hotel robes. She went back into the bedroom and dressed. She ran a comb through her short strawberry blond hair and walked into the front room of the suite. There was a door on the opposite side of the front room that was open and she absentmindedly walked over to it and looked inside.

It was another bedroom with two single beds in it. Each bed had an open suitcase sitting on a luggage stand at its foot. She walked over and glanced at the contents of the suitcases. It was children's' clothing. She reached in one and pulled out a sweater and held it up and looked at it. It was Laurie's her mind told her. She smelled of it. There was no tug at her heart at the scent of her stepdaughter. She set it down and picked up a t-shirt from the other suitcase and she smelled it. Mark had worn this shirt since it had been laundered and his scent was strong, but still no tug at her heart. She replaced it and frowned at her lack of emotions. Finally she turned and left the room.

The man who had picked her up was still on the phone and he looked at her as she came out of the children's room. She had a frown on her face and he wondered if she was holding back her emotions to appear strong for him.

Kelly went to the large sliding glass door that opened out onto an ample terrace. She slid it open and walked out into the warm air. She took a seat in one of the chaise lounges and watched a small cloud change shapes in the afternoon sky. She could hear the man's voice inside the suite, although she couldn't make out what he was saying.

When Kelly married Brian McKenny, who was a mortal researcher for the Organization, they put her on "on call" status which meant she was called in to assist a tracking team who was falling behind in their case load, unable to track an assignment or was in trouble of some sort. This was so she could spend more time with her new family.

Kelly could not remember a time when any of her superiors ever treated her unkind or showed her any disrespect. Working for the Organization was satisfying and she felt like she was doing something meaningful for her kind.

Robert Woods, the man on the phone, was the Vice President in charge of the Western U.S. Division. She had sat in meetings with him, had a few business lunches with him and other team members, even invited him to dinner a couple of times after a late night on the job. But she would never had thought him to be the kind of boss who would drop everything to fly to Greece to assist an employee in her current situation. And she definitely never thought she was that valuable an employee to warrant the kind of treatment she was getting. Brian, yes...but he was a researcher...she was only a tracker.

Kelly suddenly felt very tired, the stress of the day catching up to her. She closed her eyes to rest until Woods got off the phone and almost immediately fell asleep. Again her dreams were filled with people she didn't know and places she had never been.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter IV**_

Methos brought his car to a stop in front of Duncan's house and got out, while Joe reached into the back seat and grabbed the tray of coffees and muffins they had bought on their way to check on their friend. Joe got out of the car and joined Methos on the front porch.

Inside Duncan woke up on the couch when he felt Methos' presence and started to get up. The bottle of Scotch he had emptied the night before fell to the floor as he sat with his head in his hands, his head throbbing from the massive hangover he was going to have to suffer through.

Methos could see Duncan through the window in the front door. He tried the door knob. It was unlocked so he opened the door and stepped inside.

Joe followed him. He saw the empty bottle on the floor and elbowed Methos. He nodded in the direction of the bottle.

Methos took a cup of coffee out of the cardboard tray and took it over and set it on the coffee table in front of Duncan. "Thought you might need this," he said and took a seat in the chair next to the couch.

"Thanks," Duncan mumbled as he lifted his head and looked around. He picked up the cup of coffee, took the lid off and took a sip.

"We just stopped by to see how you were doing," Joe said as he took a seat on a bar stool at the kitchen counter.

"I'm alive," Duncan said. He still sat on the front edge of the couch and stared blankly at the styrofoam cup in his hand.

"Barely," Methos commented.

Duncan gave him a sidelong glance that warned him not to push.

"If you're hungry, we brought muffins from Griffin's Bakery," Joe stated.

Duncan stood up and set his coffee cup on the table. He turned and looked at Joe. "I know you guys mean well, but I really don't need a babysitter." He went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face.

Methos got up and walked over to the bar where Joe was. "I told you this was a bad idea."

"Yeah, yeah," Joe grumbled.

"But no one ever listens to me. Heaven forbid that I may have learned something in 5000 years," Methos went on.

"Give it a rest, will ya?" Joe said.

Duncan came out of the bathroom and walked into the kitchen. He had a small smile on his face. "A thousand comedians out of work and I'm stuck with Abbott and Costello wannabees." He reached into the cupboard over the refrigerator and took down a full bottle of Scotch. "Join me?" He asked looking at both men.

"Little early wouldn't you say?" Joe asked in return shooting Methos a worried glance.

Duncan shrugged and walked back to the couch and sat down. He picked up the shot glass he had used the night before off the floor and blew into it as if to blow any dust out of it, then filled it.

"Mac..." Joe started.

"Watch, but never interfere," Duncan stated as if reading it.

Joe rolled his eyes and raised his hands in surrender. He glanced at Methos.

"Don't look at me. This little visit was all your idea. I know better than to argue with a headstrong stubborn Scot," Methos said as he leaned against the bar. The last three words of his statement he said louder than the rest. Methos watched the back of Mac's head.

Duncan downed the shot of Scotch and sat back resting his head on the back of the couch waiting for the "hair of the dog" to cure his hangover. He smiled slightly. "You guys should take your act on the road."

Joe grumbled something under his breath that neither Methos nor Duncan could hear clearly.

Duncan sat forward and refilled the shot glass.

"I can't watch this," Joe said quietly enough that only Methos could hear him and he turned his back on Duncan.

"No," Duncan said with the same slightly amused tone. "I mean it." He stood up and turned to look at Methos and Joe. "Take it on the road." He pointed to the door with one hand and downed the shot of Scotch with the other.

"Right," Methos said and pushed off the bar and stepped toward the front door.

"Mac..." Joe started again. Duncan lost it. His face flared with anger and he threw the empty shot glass across the living room. It missed Joe by inches and crashed into the wall next to the front door shattering into many pieces. The sound in the otherwise quiet house was deafening.

"What part of leave me alone don't you understand?" Duncan yelled. "Shall I make it clearer for you?" He took a couple of steps in their direction. The anger in his eyes was more intense than either Methos or Joe had ever seen and both men moved toward the door.

"If you need..." Joe began.

"I don't need anyone or anything," Duncan bellowed. "Got it? Now get the hell out and leave me alone."

Joe and Methos exited the house and walked straight for Methos' car without hesitating. Duncan slammed the front door behind them so loud that the sound echoed in the air.

"Told you," Methos said to Joe as he got into the car.

"Shut up," Joe grumbled and got in, too. They drove back to Joe's bar in silence.

Back inside Duncan returned to the couch and with trembling hands, opened the bottle of Scotch and took several long gulps straight from the bottle then sat back and laid his head on the back of the couch and stared blankly at the ceiling.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	5. Chapter 5

Kelly slept during most of the flight home. The private jet stopped in Maryland to refuel and she got out long enough to stretch her legs and then reboarded. She dozed on and off the rest of the way to San Francisco. When they landed and taxied to the front of a private hanger she looked out the window.

On the tarmac were three hearses and a limo. She watched in silence as they flight crew unloaded the three caskets and loaded one into each of the awaiting hearses and she watched them pull away. When they were but specks in the distance, Robert Woods, who had been near the door of the jet talking to the flight attendant, came up to Kelly and leaned forward.

"Come on, kiddo," he said softly. "It's time to go."

As if on auto pilot, Kelly unfastened her seat belt, rose from her seat and stepped into the aisle. She followed her boss silently to the door of the plane where he stepped aside to allow her to exit first. She stepped out into the bright sunlight and squinted. She looked down at the bottom of the stairs and saw there were several men dressed in either suits and ties or sports jackets waiting between the bottom of the steps and the limousine. They all looked up at her with smiles of sympathy.

Woods stepped out onto the landing slightly behind Kelly and gently placed his hand at the small of her back applying just enough pressure to indicate it was time to move. Like a robot she slowly descended the stairs.

At the bottom a few of the men approached her and either took her hand and gently shook it or placed their hands on her shoulder, all expressing their condolences and welcoming her home. She managed to smile politely but never made eye contact with any of them as she blindly walked toward the limo.

When she was almost within reach of the long black Lincoln three of the men came up to her and began speaking. She only heard a few of the words, just enough to gather that they were giving her itinerary and press release instructions and one young man was shuffling through a stack of pink pieces of paper that looked like phone messages. Most of what was being said sounded like a foreign language to Kelly and by the time the chauffer had opened the back door of the limo she felt as if her head was going to explode. It didn't, but her temper did.

She froze in her tracks and held one hand in the air as a crossing guard might to stop traffic and the other one she used to cover one ear.

"Enough!" She shouted to be heard over their babbling. A couple of them tried to ignore her and she whirled around and glared directly into their eyes. "Shut up!" She commanded loudly. Suddenly there was silence among the group of men.

Woods had been going over some details with one of the men about five feet away. When he heard Kelly he turned and looked in her direction. When he heard her second command he excused himself from his conversation and began making his way through the group.

Kelly closed her eyes for a second and got control of herself, then looked at each of the men's faces. She recognized each man and knew each one's name and a memory echoed in her mind that said she had worked closely with each of them, but at that moment she felt detached from them as if she had only met them recently. She saw what looked like concern on each face and realized she over reacted so she tried to smile apologetically raising her hands in surrender.

"Look...guys," she began softly. "I appreciate what you're all trying to do, but I'm feeling more than a little overwhelmed right now. I know some of this is important and I know some of it can wait...but right now? The way that I'm feeling? It's ALL going to have to wait. Really. Thank you for your help and all, but I really need to be alone right now. Can you understand that?" The men all nodded and some gave affirmative answers quietly. Kelly looked at each one's face again. "Can you give me some time to myself? Please?"

Woods stepped up to the front of the group. "Mrs. McKenney," he started speaking softly, but firmly, "you really need..."

"No, Mr. Woods!" Kelly said with equal firmness and a little louder than he had spoken. "I need to be alone."

"Why don't you get into the car and..." Woods began as he stepped forward and put his hand under her elbow to guide her to the limo.

Kelly pulled away, politely and looked at him, her gaze, steady and somewhat cold. "I'll tell YOU what I'm going to do, Mr. Woods. I'm going to go into that terminal and rent myself a car and drive home...ALONE." She glanced at each of the other men. "No one is to follow me." She looked back at Woods. "I will call you," she glanced at the younger man with the phone messages who she knew was her personal assistant, "and you," she looked back at Woods, "in the morning." When Woods opened his mouth to protest she raised her hand to stop him. "This is not up for discussion and there are no other options. And...to be perfectly honest, Mr. Woods...if you want to fire me over this...I could care less. I've been fired from better jobs than this." She looked around at the men again and then back to Woods, who looked surprised. "Have I made myself perfectly clear?" When no one spoke she said as she turned and started to walk towards the airport terminal, "Good." With her head held high and her shoulders squared, Kelly McKenney strode to the terminal door and disappeared inside.

Kelly rented a car and headed across the bay to Sausalito. She drove without purpose and with no planned destination. About a mile after crossing the Golden Gate Bridge she came to a small group of shops set up for the tourists and she felt compelled to stop. She parked her car and wandered along the short boardwalk looking into the windows of the shops.

She stopped in front of a gem shop and for some reason she couldn't explain decided to go inside. She stepped up to the first display case and looked inside. Her eyes were drawn to a unique cabochon which she became almost entranced with. The sales girl came over and asked if she could help her with anything. Kelly looked up at the girl.

"That one," she pointed to the cabochon which was a cameo carved into a shiny black stone which was encircled by a ring of something very shiny and deep grey and then set on a sterling silver disk. "What is that made of?"

The girl opened the case and took the cabochon out and set it on a piece of red velvet. "The cameo is carved out of Obsidian and this," she pointed to the ring, "is Hematite. It's very unique."

Kelly nodded. The word "obsidian" bounced around in her mind hinting at some distant familiarity.

"The Native Americans believe that Hematite and Obsidian are very powerful healers," the girl went on to explain.

"Really," Kelly said absentmindedly. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the piece.

Sensing that her potential customer wasn't interested in the spiritual background of the stone, the girl reached into the case and brought out a 1/8" wide flat silver chain and laid it above the cabochon as if it were attached.

"I think it would look stunning on this chain." The sales girl said. "Worn either short, as a choker, or mid chest on a high neck ivory blouse or turtleneck sweater."

Kelly reached out and tentatively picked the cabochon up and examined it closer. Still the name of the shiny black stone haunted her, but she didn't know why.

"How much? Kelly asked, not taking her eyes off of the piece.

"For just the cameo?" The girl asked.

"And the chain."

"The cameo is $45 and the chain is $65...$110 plus tax," the girl answered.

Without hesitation Kelly opened her purse. "Do you take Master Card?"

Surprised that this customer wasn't going to try and haggle, the girl didn't answer at first. Kelly looked up at her and a distant fear that the girl wouldn't sell it to her crept into her thoughts. Finally the girl spoke.

"Yes," she nodded. "Of course. Would you like a box for it?"

Kelly shook her head, handed the girl her credit card and began to attach the cabochon to the chain. She put it on as the girl rang up the sale. The cabochon felt cool and comforting against her skin.

The girl handed Kelly her receipt, Kelly signed the store's copy and turned and exited without a word. She got into her car and continued driving in the direction she was headed before stopping.

A couple of miles down the road and she saw a sign that announced, "Golden Gate National Recreation Area...Scenic Hiking Trails - Turn out ahead." For the second time today she had the irresistible urge to stop, so she pulled into the parking area.

She was still dressed in high heels, nylons, skirt and blouse so she took her shoes off and removed her pantyhose and left them in the car. Barefoot, she walked to the entrance of the hiking area and began to follow one of the trails. She wandered through the forest of redwoods breathing in the scent of the pines and she felt a strange comfort.

After awhile the trail became a bridge that crossed a stream. Instead of crossing the bridge she stepped off the trail and made her way up stream and out of sight of anyone on the trail. She found a boulder that sat on the bank of the stream and sat on it, dangling her feet in the cool water.

She watched the water cascade across the rocks and swirl into small pools that filled and pushed more water on down stream, eventually emptying into San Francisco Bay. The sound of the stream, the warmth of the rock she chose to sit on, the breeze that whispered around her all seemed to give her a strange and yet familiar comfort. She leaned back against a small sapling and closed her eyes and just listened.

Her repose was interrupted by a mother on the trail calling her "runaway" child.

"Amanda?" the mother called. "Amanda Samuels, you get back here this instant. Amanda?" The mother's voice trailed off as she chased the little girl on down the trail.

Suddenly a face appeared in Kelly's mind. It was of a young woman, looking to be near her age, with short cropped platinum blond hair, brown eyes and a dazzling smile. Although she didn't recognize the image, she felt no threat, in fact, quite the opposite. The image seemed to give her a warm, safe and loved feeling. Kelly opened her eyes and stared at a water spider swimming in one of the little pools of the stream and tried to recollect who that person was. The only thing that came to mind was the name the mother had called her daughter. "Amanda". And that meant nothing to her. She closed her eyes again.

"Miss?" A voice made her jump and she looked up at a park Ranger standing a couple of feet above her. "Miss, you're not supposed to be off the trail."

Sheepishly, Kelly got to her feet. "I'm sorry. It was just so inviting."

"I know...but it's for your own safety, ma'am."

"I'm really sorry, Ranger."

"No harm done," he said and gave her a hand up the rock embankment, then followed her back to the marked trail. "You are OK, right?"

"Yes...fine. Just enjoying nature," she answered.

"You have a nice day, miss. And please stay on the marked trails."

"Thank you," she smiled. She turned and headed back to her car.

Kelly drove as if on auto pilot a few miles past the parking area, turned on a road that went into a small tract of upper middle class houses and pulled into the drive of one. She shut off the car and got out, walked up to the door, extracted a set of keys from her purse, opened the door and stepped inside.

She didn't notice the station wagon parked a few houses up the street or the 2 men inside, one with binoculars and one with a two way radio.

Inside the house she looked around. The house held a familiarity but not as if she had lived there; it was more the familiar feeling of a house one had visited frequently. She went upstairs, passed the doors to Mark and Laurie's rooms and entered the master bedroom where she removed her clothes and went into the bathroom and ran water for a hot bath.

Kelly soaked in the spacious tub until the water was almost cold. She got out, dried off, put on the rob that was hanging behind the bathroom door and went in the bedroom. She lay across the bed and stared at the ceiling, unconsciously caressing the cabochon. As the sun began to cast evening shadows on the ceiling, she fell asleep.

The next morning Kelly woke before her alarm went off. She got out of bed, took a quick shower and dressed in one of several very chic and powerful looking business suits.

Once she was satisfied that her appearance was near perfect she went downstairs to the kitchen. She looked through the kitchen cabinets for some coffee but all she found was some instant. She drank a glass of orange juice instead as she went to the front door, opened it and retrieved the morning newspaper from the front porch.

As she straightened up to go back inside, her paper in one hand, Kelly noticed a station wagon parked at the curb a few houses away. She purposefully looked up at the sky as if checking the weather, glanced around at those of her neighbors that were outside their homes (none of whom she recognized) and even waved to a couple of them, seemingly oblivious of the fact that she was under surveillance, then she went inside the house and closed the door.

She stood far enough back from her front window as to not be seen yet close enough to be able to watch the car for several minutes. She was able to determine that there were two men sitting in the front seat, one with a pair of binoculars and the other holding a handheld two way radio and both intently watching her house.

Kelly watched the station wagon for several minutes then realized that she would be late for work if she didn't leave soon so she went into the small study, grabbed her brief case from the chair by the door, her purse and keys from the table in the hall and her Sword of Light from a shelf next to the front door. She stepped out onto the front porch and as she locked the front door she glanced at the car again out of the corner of her eye.

She wasn't sure it the two men were from the Organization or somewhere else, but for some unknown reason, she didn't care. She was surprisingly unconcerned about the fact that she was under surveillance, only curious.

She walked nonchalantly to her rental car in the driveway and got in. She turned the defroster fan on high to defog the front window and reached to turn on the car radio when she suddenly froze.

Kelly stared blankly out the windshield at the closed garage door that was in front of the car for several long seconds, and then she sat back and looked at her reflection in the rear view mirror.

Kelly McKenny had come to the realization that she had no idea what-so-ever where the Organization's offices were nor did she even remotely have a clue as to what her job was there.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	6. Chapter 6

Amanda lay on a lounge chair on the Queen Ann Condominium's private beach basking in the warm sunlight when she felt the buzz of another Immortal. Without opening her eyes she slid her hand under her chair and grasped the hilt of her sword which she had covered with a thin layer of sand and waited. She didn't really feel threatened because there were several other Queen Ann residents also enjoying the warm afternoon.

Methos strolled down the path that led from the Queen Ann Condominiums to their private beach. He spied Amanda straight away, looking elegantly relaxed and headed toward her. He saw her hand slip under her chair and smiled. He approached her chair and positioned himself so that he cast a shadow across her.

"You're blocking my sun," she said coolly without opening her eyes. When the shadow didn't move and she got no response she raised her free hand to shield her eyes from the sun and looked up. Seeing it was Methos she smiled welcomingly.

"Well, hello, stranger," she said coyly. Methos only smiled at her. "You're still blocking my sun," she said and closed her eyes and lowered her hand.

"And now she lays claim to the sun," Methos said as he moved to her other side and sat on the side of the lounge next to her.

Amanda released the hilt of her sword and brought her arm back up to her side.

"I came by several times in the last couple of weeks," Methos said. "But no one's been home."

"Really?" Amanda turned her head to look at him surprised he'd been trying to get hold of her. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Does something have to be wrong for me to pay you a visit?" Methos asked.

"No," Amanda admitted. "I guess not."

"You know MacLeod's back in town," he announced.

Amanda closed her eyes and straightened her head back on the lounge pillow. "Goody for him," she said disgustedly.

Methos sighed. "OK. Why are you mad at him now?"

"It doesn't matter," she answered.

"I think it does."

"Think what you'd like," she said with an edge to her voice.

"Hey," Methos said softly and leaned forward. "This is me you're talking to. What's wrong?"

He had pushed too far and Amanda's emotions welled up inside of her. A tear escaped her closed eyelid and trickled down her cheek.

"Why is he back, Methos?" she asked her voice shaky.

"What do you mean, why? He's exhausted."

"He should still be looking for her," Amanda said fighting to keep her emotions under control. "He's given up hasn't he?"

"I don't know," Methos sighed. "It's been three years, Amanda. What if he has?"

Amanda sat up, swung her legs around so she was sitting on the edge of the lounge and facing him. She began collecting her things and glared into his eyes, then stood up and started to walk away.

Methos jumped up and grabbed her arm.

"For God's sake, Amanda," he said.

"What?" she whirled around to glare at him. "Why is he giving up on her? She wouldn't give up if the tables were turned."

Methos saw the deep pain in Amanda's eyes. "If she kept running into brick walls? That's what he spent the last three years doing. When does he get to say "enough is enough"? When does he allow himself to heal?"

Amanda jerked her arm out of his grasp and hissed, "Never! She's not dead. She's out there somewhere and she needs our help."

Methos sighed out of exasperation. "Amanda, I know what Caitlin meant to you."

"No you don't," she snarled. "How could you? You've never taken someone from infancy and taught them...watched them grow and shared yourself with them." Tears sprang to her eyes no matter how hard she fought them. "I held her life in my hands for five years. We shared everything," Amanda's voice cracked and tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

Methos tried to put his arms around her to comfort her but she pulled away trying to maintain her indignation and independence.

"She became more than just a student," she continued, the words gushing out of her. "She's my best friend. Do you know what it's like to have a best friend?" She stopped and shook her head. "No you probably don't," she grumbled.

Methos looked away, hurt. "I'm not a robot, Amanda. I have feelings."

Amanda snorted her doubt of his sincerity.

Methos remembered the camaraderie shared between himself and the Horsemen. He reflected on his present day relationships. If he were to use Amanda's definition of a best friend he would have to say that Joe Dawson and Duncan were as close as anyone could get to being his best friends. They knew him, knew his past and yet never stood in judgment. He trusted both of them with his life (probably MacLeod more than Dawson) and trust was practically foreign to him.

Amanda was still talking but Methos' mind had shut her out. He thought about Caitlin. He remembered the first time he met her. He had been unusually taken with her. Although she was only 5'4" tall, she had the spirit of a giant. Her spunky sense of humor, her smarmy nature and her take no prisoners attitude gained his admiration and respect. And she kept him laughing. She was tough as nails and extremely independent. Even her Irish stubbornness was endearing. Methos had to admit that he missed her. That her disappearance had definitely left a void in his heart.

Methos returned his attention to Amanda whose ranting seemed to be winding down. When she finished, he put a hand on each of her shoulders.

"I miss her, too, Amanda," he said softly. "She was very special to a lot of people."

Amanda tried to wrench free of his grasp.

"Was?" she yelled. "You talk about her in the past tense. She's not dead, Methos!" She said almost pleadingly. "She's not. I won't believe it. I'd know it if she were," she looked at him seriously. "We had that kind of connection. We always knew when the other one was in trouble. She's in trouble, yes. But she's not dead."

Methos decided that his belief that it was just wishful thinking on Amanda's part would be better left unsaid, so instead he said, "OK, I believe you, luv." He couldn't remember ever seeing Amanda this upset. Not even when Rebecca was killed.

"Unfortunately, we can't help her right now since we don't know where she is," he said. "But there is someone here that we can help."

Amanda shook her head "no", aware of whom he was referring to.

"MacLeod's in a bad way," Methos pushed. "He needs his friends right now."

"Then you and Joe do the friend thing," Amanda said as she used a corner of her beach towel to wipe her face. "I just can't."

"You've been his friend longer than we have," Methos continued trying to reason with her.

Amanda gathered her things up again and turned to walk away.

"I haven't got time, Methos," she said over her shoulder.

Methos caught up to her. "What do you mean, you haven't got time?" he asked.

"I'm going over there myself. I'm going to do what MacLeod should be doing," she said as she continued to walk up the access path toward the Queen Ann Condos.

"What makes you think you can get any farther than Mac did in three years?" Methos asked following her.

"I have my ways," she smirked and Methos could see the old Amanda starting to resurface. "He quit too soon," she said. "I won't quit until I find her."

"That's exactly what Mac said three years ago," Methos said more to himself than to her.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	7. Chapter 7

Kelly was curled up on the couch in the den trying to watch TV, but she was finding it hard to concentrate.

The phone had been ringing persistently, but she had let the answering machine pick it up each time and each time it was Woods. She knew it would just be a matter of time before he'd be at her door and from the sound of desperation in his voice that time was nearing.

Kelly got up and went into the living room. She peered out the front window by pulling the edge of the curtain away from the window frame just enough to see out and not be seen. The station wagon was still parked in the same place. She carefully let go of the curtain and went back into the den where she turned the TV off. She then went upstairs to the master bedroom where she lie down on the bed and stared at the ceiling trying to put together a plan to get out of this house without being seen.

Kelly became more restless as the day wore on. Some of her memory seemed to return in foggy bits and pieces, but she still had no recollection of even what the building looked like that was the home to the Organization. By the time the sun had started setting and the sky had gone from a pale blue to a spectrum of shades of orange and red, Kelly was pacing the floor of the bedroom.

Finally, she went to her closet and took out a pair of jeans and a sweat shirt and laid them across the back of a chair. From her dresser she removed underwear and a pair of socks. She returned to the closet and retrieved her cowboy boots and set them with the clothes. She then took her robe from the hook behind the bedroom door and went into the bathroom to take a long hot, relaxing shower.

Kelly got out of the shower when the water began to turn cool. She put on her robe and went into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. She stared blankly at the gold band on her left ring finger for several minutes, and then she slipped it off her finger and set it on the night stand. She looked at her naked finger and was surprised that there was no tan line.

Kelly lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She dozed on and off. She woke up in a cold sweat after dreaming about a man she didn't recognize, an attractive man with long hair and bedroom eyes, trying to take her head. The room was completely dark. She got up and went to the window and looked out. She was able to see the silhouette of the station wagon in the moonlight.

Without turning on any lights, Kelly took the clothes she had laid out earlier from the chair into the bathroom and closed the door before turning on the light. She got dressed, turned off the light and opened the door going back into the dark bedroom. Using the light of the moon that was filtering in through the bedroom windows, Kelly went to Brian's closet and took out a back pack and a duffel bag which she filled with clothes and toiletries. Once they were filled she made her way downstairs without turning on any lights. She put her sword into the duffle bag and took her ID out of her purse and stuck it into her jeans pocket.

Kelly set the bags down and went into the living room and checked on the station wagon one last time. Seeing it was still parked in the same place she went back into the foyer, picked up the bags and went into the kitchen and quietly went out the back door. She made her way to the back fence, threw both bags over the fence and then climbed over it her self.

Once on the other side, Kelly slung the back pack onto her back and the duffle bag over her shoulder and, keeping low, hurried across the vacant lots behind her house to the highway. She followed the highway to Marin City where she found the bus station and bought a ticket on the first bus whose destination was out of the San Francisco area.

Kelly sat near the back of the bus and didn't relax until they were midway across the Golden Gate Bridge but became anxious the entire time the bus was sitting at the San Francisco terminal. Once it had left the big terminal and was well on its way out of town to its destination of Medford, Oregon, Kelly relaxed and finally fell into a dreamless sleep.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	8. Chapter 8

Robert Woods sat at his desk in his spacious office and pressed the intercom button on his phone. When his secretary answered he said, "Try Mrs. McKenny again, Julia, please", then released the button. He was just about to open a file when the intercom beeped. He pressed the button again to answer it.

"I'm still getting the answering machine, Mr. Woods," his secretary said.

"Damn," he swore. "Get Sullivan on the phone." He released the button and turned his chair to look out the window at the San Francisco Bay. The intercom beeped and his secretary announced that his call was on line two. He picked up his phone. "Sullivan, I need you to go by the McKenny house. Our girl is still not answering and I'm getting a little more than concerned." He listened for a few seconds then said, "Good. Let me know." He hung up and got up from his chair and walked to the window. He looked out across the bay in the direction of Sausalito as if he could see Kelly's house.

A large man in a crumpled sport jacket stepped into the office and walked to one of the two chairs that sat in front of Woods' desk and sat down.

Woods turned and looked at the man as he sat down. "I think we may have a problem," he said.

The man looked up at Woods curiously. "With?" he asked.

"Mrs. McKenny," Woods answered and returned to his chair behind his desk. "She hasn't reported in since she got back and she's not answering her phone."

"I thought we had her under surveillance?" the man asked.

"We do," Woods stated. "But they're saying they haven't seen any lights on in the house. Seems she got into her car yesterday morning and acted like she was coming in, but then got out of her car and went back into the house and no one's seen her since."

"Hmmm," the man said thoughtfully.

"I just sent Sullivan to check on her," woods said.

"I told you I thought she might be a problem," then man looked at Woods. "She was just too head strong. The hardest on we have had."

"I know," Woods nodded. "But I thought that would pay off in the long run. That once the treatment took effect..." he let his sentence trail off as he began to fiddle with his pen thoughtfully. Just then his intercom beeped.

"Mr. Woods? Mr. Sullivan's on line two," his secretary announced.

Without acknowledging her Woods picked up the phone and looked at the man across from him as he spoke. "What did you find out?" he asked Sullivan. A look of shock came over his face.

The large man rose up and sat forward in his chair.

"What do you mean, she's gone? Gone where? How could she be gone?" Woods' voice betrayed the fact that he was on the verge of panic. "Well, find out. There's got to be some clue around there somewhere. She can't just have vanished. I want those idiots that were supposed to be keeping an eye on her to report in." He listened for a few minutes then said, "I don't care what you have to do...just get me some answers." He slammed the phone down and looked at the man across from him.

"Gone, huh?" The man said simply and Woods nodded. "Well she doesn't know anyone outside of the organization so where would she go?"

"As far as we know...she doesn't know anyone outside of the Organization," Woods said and got up and started pacing the floor.

"What do you mean?" the large man asked.

Woods stopped and looked directly into the man's eyes. "What if she's starting to remember?" he asked in a hushed voice.

The large man sat back in his chair, his brow furrowed and took in a deep, loud breath. "Do you think that's possible?"

Woods returned to pacing and shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is she's disappeared. And it looks like she left of her own accord. Why? I have no idea. I just know we have to get her back before ..." he let his sentence trail off.

"Before she does start to remember," the large man said quietly.

_**6 months later**_

Kelly had been touring the U.S. with the National Rodeo Association for six months. She had joined up with them after meeting Kevin and Toni (a husband and wife roping team that belonged to the group currently on tour) in a diner just outside of Medford, Oregon. They knew nothing of her situation, only that she had hit the road looking for adventure.

Kevin and Toni had taken her in and, after much insistence by Kelly, given her a job to pay her way. Her job was basically to help load and unload their horses, help saddle them up and get them ready for an event and whatever other little chores they needed help with. (It was the only way Kelly would accept their offer to stay with them in the motor home.)

After a couple of weeks Toni had noticed Kelly's natural connection to the horses. They responded to her in a way Toni had only seen one other time before and that was with her grandfather, a Sioux Shaman. So Toni discussed it with Kevin and during a three day break tested Kelly's horsemanship.

Kelly had no knowledge of ever really being around horses much. She could remember renting some one time on a family vacation (and even that memory was fuzzy). But she felt the connection Toni had seen. It was as though when she looked into the horse's eyes, there was some sort of communication that passed between them. The two usually skittish horses of Kevin and Toni's were calm and passive in Kelly's hands.

Toni had decided to let Kelly ride her bay mare, Chickeepoo. When Kelly swung into the saddle and took the reigns it was obvious that she knew what she was doing and that she was completely at home. As she ran Chickeepoo through her paces, Kelly displayed the calm control of someone totally in charge and the headstrong, sometimes uncontrollable mare sensed it, too, and responded without hesitation to every one of Kelly's commands.

Another member of the touring rodeo association observed Kelly's display and offered up one of his horses for her to ride in the Barrel Racing portion of the rodeo (to which Kelly agreed as long as they split whatever monetary winnings she might earn).

From that point on Kelly traveled with Kevin and Toni from the West coast to the East coast and back again as a member of the association and competitor. Their last scheduled rodeo was to be held on the last weekend of a two week long country fair just outside of the seaport city of Seacouver, Washington.

Kelly was looking forward to this rodeo because she had discovered during her bus ride to Medford, Oregon that she loved the rain forests of the Pacific Northwest.

The motor home was traveling along the Columbia River on the Oregon side. As Kelly looked with fascination at the scenery she asked, "Do you think we'll have some time for any sight seeing before the rodeo?"

Kevin smiled as he maneuvered the motor home through light traffic. "I'm sure we will. If we keep going we should be there by tomorrow morning which will be a week ahead of schedule," he answered.

"Never been in these parts before?" Toni asked.

Kelly shook her head. "It's like a different world. It's so beautiful. So green and clean."

"Yep," Kevin said. "Welcome to the Pacific Northwest."

As Kevin predicted, they arrived at the fairgrounds outside of the Seacouver city limits just after sunrise the following day. They checked in and located their assigned "camp" spot and Kevin and Kelly unloaded the horses while Toni prepared breakfast.

After breakfast Kevin joined a group of the men for a poker game, Toni went into the back room of the motor home to take a nap and Kelly decided to take Patches, the brown and white Paint on loan to her, for a ride along the beach of the peninsula.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	9. Chapter 9

Methos walked along the cliff line of the Seacouver shoreline as he had been doing every morning for the past six months. It helped him clear his mind, he claimed. Sometimes he would stop and watch a family of sea lions on the rocks jutting out of the surf, or the kite flying club that gathered on the beach once a week, which is what caught his attention on that particular morning.

As he watched the colorful kites gliding in the morning sky his attention was captured by something new on the beach. Some distance off was a horse and rider, something one didn't see very often. It was the horse that had caught his eye. A brown and white Paint that reminded him of one he'd had centuries ago. The patches of cocoa brown were perfectly separated by the purest white, none melting into another. The horse and rider were too far away to see the rider but he could see the horse well enough. He wondered where they had come from as there were no ranches or ranchettes this close to the coast that he knew of.

He watched for a while and then decided he needed to get some work done, so he walked back to the parking area where he had parked his car, got in and headed for Joe's Bar.

Methos made a stop on his way, at a convenience store to purchase a newspaper. As he reached for the door to go inside the store he noticed a poster announcing an upcoming rodeo to be held at the fair ground's arena the following weekend. He realized that that must have been where the horse and rider came from. He made a mental note to maybe take a drive out there just to check out the horses. He bought his newspaper and drove on into town and to Joe's Bar.

Later that afternoon Methos left the bar, got into his car and drove to the fair grounds. Once there he parked near the arena and wandered over to the area where all the motor homes, tents and horse trailers were.

Some of the rodeoers had had constructed small paddocks for their horses so they didn't have to be tied up. Methos strolled along the back side of the portable corrals looking at each of the horses. Once he had wandered around the full perimeter he noticed the sound of exited voices coming from the arena so he made his way in that direction. He took a seat near the center of the grand stands in the second row and leaned back bracing himself with his elbows on the bench behind him.

In the arena several of the rodeoers were practicing their roping skills. Soon a whistle blew and all the ropers vacated the arena and three cowboys rolled in three barrels and set them up for the Barrel Racing practice. When the barrels were set the three cowboys vacated the arena and the first lady rider emerged from the gate for her practice run.

Methos had only been to a rodeo once before and he could barely remember it because it was not what he had been there for, for one thing, and he had been drunk for another. So to watch the rider put her chestnut Quarter Horse through its paces rather fascinated him.

The rider made her home stretch dash and disappeared out the open gate. A few minutes later the arena loud speaker squelched and someone announced her time for the full run as 18.6 seconds. Less than three minutes later the Paint Methos had seen on the beached burst into the arena and the all too familiar "Immortal buzz" with it. The Paint made its run for the first barrel and smoothly leaned almost to the ground as it made an extremely tight turn around the barrel, then straightened up as it dashed for the second one 90 feet across from the first.

Methos sat forward on the bench and strained his eyes trying to get a better look at the girl on the Paint's back. It had been a long time...centuries, in fact...since he had seen anyone, especially a female, that seemed to become one with their mount and that's what this rider was doing. It was as if the rider and the horse had become one mechanism. When the Paint leaned almost to the ground to make the extremely tight 360° turn around each barrel, the rider would lean with him in perfect alignment and, at the end of the turn, the Paint would straighten up to make his run for the next barrel and the rider straightened with him...again, in perfect alignment.

When the previous rider's horse leaned into its turn, the rider was slow to react, almost as if she wasn't expecting it, which put the horse off balance, and even though it was only for a few seconds, it caused the horse to slow its pace. Not only was she slow to react but she never released her death grip on the saddle horn (which meant to Methos, she either lacked confidence in herself or her horse or that she was just plain scared...neither of which were the signs of a rider experienced enough to be competing in this sport.).

When the Paint and its rider rounded the last barrel and began their dash to the finish line, at the exact same time that the Paint broke into a full run, lowering its head so that it was level with its body and creating one even line to cut through the air like a knife, the rider tossed her head back just enough to send her hat flying (sanctioned events have strict dress codes which include hats being worn at all times, but if the wind should blow a rider's hat off it is not counted against them.), then leaned forward and low across the saddle horn, nearly laying on the Paint's neck (thus cutting down drag), placed her hands on the Paint's withers which slacked the reigns giving the horse his head and uttered a "shooshing" sound twice. As if shot from a canon, both horse and rider became a blur as they sped across the 195 feet to the finish line.

In this particular arena, the gate that served as the start and finish line was also the entrance and exit. Outside of that area of the arena were several large "portable" offices. The distance between the gate and these offices was only about 30 feet. The barrel racers had to make a quick decision whether to reign right or left because at a full run, the momentum they had gathered made a complete stop nearly impossible and without reigning right or left, could result in both horse and rider skidding head long into the side of one of the metal structures. Knowing this, the first rider had slowed her horse just before crossing the finish line so that she could easily make her turn (she chose to go left).

Methos came to his feet as he realized the Paint and its rider continued across the finish line still at a full run and instinctively held his breath in anticipation of the inevitable collision. But as soon as the Paint crossed the finish line, the rider actually stood up in the stirrups, leaned back against the saddle's cantle, set her feet forward and gently pulled back on the reigns. The Paint responded immediately by dropping its hindquarters so that it was almost sitting on the ground and bracing it front legs in front of itself causing it to skid a few feet but coming to a complete stop only inches away from the side of the office. It then righted itself undauntedly and its rider slipped into a relaxed position and reined the Paint around to face the arena as the onlookers cheered. If Methos hadn't seen it for himself he never would have believed that what he had just witnessed hadn't been choreographed.

The loud speaker squealed and the announcer's voice sounded surprised when he said, "15.84, Kelly. You just broke the regional records!"

Kelly looked up shocked. "What? He's kidding, right?' She said looking at one of the bystanders. Not waiting for an answer she urged Patches forward and rode to the bottom of the announcer's tower. She looked up. "Andy!" She called up to the tower and a man leaned out and looked down. "Is your clock broken or something?" She asked. Just then she felt the buzz of another Immortal nearby but she didn't turn her attention away from the announcer's tower.

Methos watched the Paint and rider approach the announcer's tower. He stepped over the first row bench and stepped up to the railing. He rested his arms on the top rail and leaned against it. He heard her speaking to the announcer and a chill ran up his spine. "Couldn't be," he mumbled to himself. He remained where he was frozen in place.

"There's nothing wrong with my timer, Kelly. That's your time," Andy called down to her.

"Then you're pulling my leg about the record," she laughed up at him.

"Well, of course, you didn't officially break the record because this is only a practice run. But if you pull a time like this one or better tomorrow?" he said with a smile. "It will become official."

"Why? What is the record time, Andy?" Kelly asked a little embarrassed that she didn't know it.

"16.0," Andy announced.

Kelly sat stunned and speechless. She waved a thank you up to Andy and reined Patches around. She scanned the grandstands and saw that there was only one person in them; a man. She looked directly at him. She didn't recognize him and he didn't appear threatening but the way he was looking at her was un-nerving.

Kelly had always been the kind of person who confronted unsure situations head on. She believed that it was better to lay your cards on the table up front so there would be no misunderstand down the road, so she reigned Patches directly toward the Immortal in the grandstands.

Methos was rather surprised when he saw the rider start heading towards him. He watched her face as she got closer. There was a definite familiarity in her face and especially in her eyes. But even up close there was enough of a difference in her facial appearance to create doubt.

Kelly locked her gaze with the other Immortal's. The deeper she seemed to look into his eyes and the deeper he looked into hers, the more un-nerved she felt. She did not recognize him at all. She had never met him (that she knew of) and could not recall ever seeing his picture in the Organization's database, but yet, somewhere deep inside she had a feeling she should recognize him.

In the past when Kelly would come across another Immortal and there was some question as to whether or not she recognized them from seeing their profile in the database, she usually went by what her gut instinct told her because her memory could fail her but her gut never did. And that nagging suspicion usually meant she had seen the person in the database and that meant they were dangerous. So Kelly decided not to abandon what had worked for her all the years she had been employed by the Organization, which meant this Immortal, although seemingly harmless now, could not be trusted and would eventually have to be eliminated.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter X**_

It was mid morning. The sun shone brightly from a pale blue sky and it was comfortably warm. Duncan was in the front yard of the "A" frame house that he and Caitlin had shared. Dressed only in a hakama, his upper body glistened in the sun as worked his muscles to the max in a fierce Kata.

In most cases a Kata is so smooth and fluid and almost resembles a graceful ballet. This one, however, did not. Each move was sharp and precise and Duncan vocalized each move. His facial expression during one of his regular workout Katas was either relaxed or void of expression. But this time his face was almost contorte4d with a mixture of pain, hatred and anger. Duncan MacLeod was doing battle. Battle with some unseen enemy. Battling his demons.

It had been six months since he had returned to Seacouver, (three of those months had been spent in a drunken stupor). He had chased away almost all of his friends seeking solace so he could bury himself in a bottle of Scotch. Finally, after three months of oblivion, one of the only two friends he had left (who refused to be chased off) had gotten through to him and he began the long process of sobering up and preparing to deal with reality. That friend had been Methos and it had been one particular point out of countless points made in one of his six hour lectures/sermons that had found its way through Duncan's alcohol fogged mind.

"Unlike mortals," Methos had said, "we can't indulge ourselves with depression. A mortal can hide from reality either by chemical means or mentally shutting down. Even if they manage to spend the rest of their lives in whatever form of escape they've chosen, it will eventually end for them when their life ends."

Methos had already been in MacLeod's house for four hours trying desperately to get through to his friend. He had just about used all of his best stuff and still Mac sat on the couch staring at (but probably unable to see) the wedding portrait of he and Caitlin and holding on to a half empty bottle of Scotch.

Methos had started pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace as he talked, glancing intermittently at MacLeod.

"We, however, being immortal, don't have that luxury," he continued. "And since we can't die of sclerosis of the liver...well I'm sure you get my point." He really wasn't even sure MacLeod was even listening until Mac spoke up.

"Unless someone takes our head," Duncan said in a soft monotone voice, his words slurring badly and his Scottish accent quite prominent. Without looking away from the photograph, he added, "So why don't you be a friend and do that?"

Methos stopped pacing and stared at his friend. He was not unfamiliar with the kind of pain Duncan was going through. In 5000 years a person experiences many a broken heart. And, in some cases, he had handled it as badly, even worse, than Mac was now. A few times he even had to go through it, work through it, alone (something he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy). But this was actually the first time he had ever watched someone he cared about, someone he loved like a brother, go through it and it had taken him three months of feeling helpless to come here and fight to get through to his friend. Now he was determined not to leave until he had either become successful or Duncan took his head to shut him up (which is what Joe had predicted was going to be the outcome and even wagered $20 on it.).

As he stared down at MacLeod, the part of Methos that still haunted a small corner of his soul from the old days whispered, "Do it. Put him out of his and your misery. Stop his pathetic sniveling once and for all." Instead he had stepped around the over sized coffee table, reached down, grabbed the bottle of Scotch out of Duncan's hand and tossed it into the fireplace, then instantly turned back around and with one quick movement, backhanded Duncan across his face.

Because Mac was so thoroughly anesthetized from the endless days and nights of constant drinking and very little eating, he was taken completely by surprise and the blow, although not delivered with maximum force, sent him sprawling across the couch.

It had not been Methos intention to resort to violence with his friend and as soon as he did it he regretted it. He sat down on the coffee table in front of Duncan and the look on his face that had only seconds before been distorted by the instantaneous rage was one of deep sadness. And it was seeing that, even through his blurred vision and hearing the words the normally smarmy 5000 year old Immortal spoke that reached through Duncan's drunken fog and touched his soul.

"Damn-it, MacLeod! I miss her, too," Methos said and the sadness in his voice was clear. "We all do."

"She was _my_ wife, though," Duncan slurred.

"And some of us lived vicariously through you," Methos added softly, almost embarrassed at his admission.

"What do you mean?" Duncan struggled to sit back up.

"Never mind," Methos answered knowing MacLeod would never understand in his current state of mind. "I'll explain it to you someday," Then he added more to himself than to Duncan, "maybe."

Duncan's road out of oblivion wasn't an easy one. The alcohol had become a part of him and even though he was an Immortal and his physical wounds could heal quickly he was just as susceptible to addiction as mortals.

The first couple of weeks were the hardest as he fought both the physical and emotional withdrawals with Methos and Joe's help. There were times when he thought he might not get through it, and there were times that he thought he didn't want to, that it wasn't worth it. But through it all, through the physical pain (which at times was excruciating), through the D.T.s and the insatiable cravings, through the darkness that seemed endless, Methos would be there with a rope to pull him out of his pit of despair. During the times he thought he was going to drown in the sea of darkness, it was Joe that would toss him a life preserver and pull him ashore. And when the rope or the life preserver seemed too far away to reach, it was the voice of his beloved Caitlin that became the tide that carried him forward to where he could grab on to the rope or life preserver.

Once the alcohol was out of his system and its demons had been battled and conquered, Duncan's fight was still not over, for then he had to learn how to do what had driven him into the bottle in the first place. He had to face the real world and learn to deal with real life, a life without Caitlin. That battle was still ongoing.

"Are you sure?" Joe asked Methos as he refilled the two shot glasses on the bar in front of them.

"No. I'm not sure, Joe," Methos answered. "It was just something in her voice." He shook his head and downed the shot of whiskey. "I don't know. Maybe I just wanted there to be something," he added softly, more to himself. "But if Caitlin had had a sister...this girl could be it." He thought back to his encounter with the rider of the Paint at the fairgrounds.

When Kelly had pulled her horse to a stop in front of Methos he had spoken first. "I'm here just to watch," he said and smiled. "That was an impressive run."

Kelly looked him directly in the eye, her gaze steady. "Then buy a ticket. The rodeo's tomorrow," she said.

"You can count on it," Methos sated. "That's a beautiful Paint."

"Thank you," she said but her voice was as cold as her stare.

"Believe me, I'm not here to cause any trouble," Methos tried to assure her.

As she settled into the saddle preparing to ride away a smirk came across her face. "Just know...whatever you start, I will finish," she said with a familiar cockiness. A familiarity that twisted Methos stomach.

"Duly noted," he smiled.

Kelly turned Patches toward the gate, but after a few steps, brought him to a stop and turned in the saddle and looked back at Methos, a look of confused curiosity on her face.

"Do I know you?" She asked. "Have we met before?" There was none of the cold bravado of earlier.

Methos was taken by surprise at the question and unsure how to respond. So he simply smiled and shrugged. "All things are possible," he answered and then surprised himself with what he said next. "One can only hope."

His response did nothing to alleviate her curiosity or the strange feeling that she should recognize him. And his last comment, although seemingly an innocent attempt at profoundness on the surface, sent off some strange inner alarm telling her there was a deeper meaning which she just couldn't grasp. She rode away confused.

Methos had watched her until she disappeared beyond the gate then left. He had returned to Joe's in need of a drink and Joe's ear.

"But she might have recognized you?" Joe asked as he refilled Methos' glass.

Methos shrugged. "Maybe...on some level. But that assuming it's her, and how could that be? How could she be Caitlin and not know me...and look different enough to make me unsure if it was her?"

Joe shook his head. "I don't know. But who knows what whoever abducted Caitlin might have done to her. What worries me is, if it is our girl and they did somehow manage to obliterate her memory and change her appearance...why? Why would they do that?"

Methos looked up at Joe just as the shot glass Joe had just refilled touched his lips and froze for a second as Joe's words sunk in. Then he downed the shot, set the glass on the table and, still looking at Joe said, "whatever it is...it can't be good." A look of fear clouded his eyes.

Joe nodded, his expression mirroring Methos' and mixed with extreme concern. "Yeah."

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**CHAPTER XI**_

_**The year is 1855 in a Sioux village. Inside a domed structure made of twigs and mud a Shaman and a young girl with long red hair sit on either side of a small fire and face each other. The temperature inside the structure is very warm and humid and sweat runs off of both their faces.**_

_**The girl is dress in pants and a shirt made of deer hide. The shirt has only minimal designs painted on the front. Her hair hangs loose around her shoulders and she wears a 1" head band across her forehead made of woven beads and horse hair. **_

_**Although her hair is the color of carrots her skin is not the fair, freckled complexion one would expect. Instead it is a golden brown, tanned by many days spent in the sun.**_

_**The shaman reaches over the small fire and sprinkles something into the flames which cause them to flare up and create a bluish smoke that fills the air with the scent of sage. Although he speaks in the native Sioux language, the girl in front of him understands what he is saying and listens intently. Her respect for this man is obvious in her green eyes as she sits cross legged, her back erect, her hands resting on her knees.**_

**_"Although you are not born of our people," the Shaman speaks quietly, "you have lived as one of us, worked along side of us, hunted along side of us and fought with us. When you came to us a year and a half ago, you were grown but a child in many ways. Even then I knew you were special. My wife, Owaci Tahca, saw it, too and urged me to bring you into our family. You have learned beside our sons and Owaci Tahca and I have come to look upon you as our daughter. You told us your wasicu caje but it is time that we give you your Sioux name for you are truly one of us." _**

_**The Shaman sprinkles something into the fire that causes it to flare up and a red colored smoke fills the air of the hut with the scent of cinnamon. The girl's posture has not changed but the expression on her face is now mixed as she fights back a proud smile and a tear trickles down her cheek, but she says nothing. The Shaman stands and walks around behind her and stops. He shakes a rattle over her head and begins a Sioux chant. The girl closes her eyes and raises her head slightly so that her face is looking upward. The Shaman's chant ends and he returns to his place across from the girl and sits. He once again sprinkles something into the fire, the flames flare and a bluish green smoke fills the air with the scent of sage and pine. He makes a clicking sound with his tongue and the girl opens her eyes and looks at him.**_

**_"From this day forward, you shall be known to all Sioux as Peta Tokala, daughter of Apawi Wabli and Owaci Tahca," he says a little louder than before and with authority. He tosses something into the fire and the flames flare up high with a loud crackling noise, but this time there is no smoke._**

**_The girl remains seated and repeats her new name over and over in her head. Sun Eagle passes a small bowl woven from the bark of a maple tree. She takes the bowl and looks into it then back up to Sun Eagle who gives her a slight nod. She reaches into the bowl and takes out a black "button" half the size of a dime, puts it in her mouth and hands the bowl back to Sun Eagle. Slowly she chews the "button" then swallows it. She closes her eyes and begins chanting._**

_**The Shaman picks up a larger bowl filled with water and pours it on the hot rocks along side the fire and steam fills the small hut. He gets up and moves to the blanket covered door, lifts the blanket and steps outside as a woman around his age steps into the hut and drops the blanket back over the door. **_

_**The woman wears an ankle band that has a single bell on it and when the girl hears the bell she stops chanting, opens her eyes and looks at the woman. The woman smiles proudly at the girl who begins to undress. Once she is naked she sits cross legged nearer to the hot rocks which the woman douses again with water creating more steam in the hut. The woman begins to chant and the girl closes her eyes and begins to sway from side to side in rhythm with the chanting.**_

_**Soon the girl begins to have visions. They are of many faces. She sees a white man, tired and haggard looking, a white woman with red hair like hers, a Calvary soldier, a Sioux brave, Sun Eagle, Dancing Deer, Rain Cloud and Sleeping Bear (their sons), a white wolf, a white man she doesn't recognize with long black hair and gentle brown eyes, a young woman she also doesn't recognize with short dark hair, fair complected holding a sword and again the white wolf. The wolf stays in her vision moving closer then farther away, then closer. Then another face appears and becomes a whole person...a man she doesn't recognize either. He's a large, rotund man with a round red face that is sort of flat and a bulbous nose, beady eyes and thinning grey hair. The wolf begins to growl and steps between the man and her, his growling becoming more vicious. The man begins to laugh and the foam begins to form around the wolf's mouth as he becomes angrier. The man steps forward and the wolf lunges. The man's face disappears into the wolf's mouth.**_

_**The girl gasps and opens her eyes.**_

Kelly sat straight up in bed with a gasp. Her pajamas were soaked from sweat and her face was dripping sweat. She was trembling. She looked around confused for a moment as to her whereabouts. She began to recognize her surroundings. She had been sleeping in a sleeping bag in a hammock Kevin had put up the day before. It had been such a beautiful night that Kelly had decided to sleep under the stars instead of inside the motor home. She could hear the horses moving in their trailers and temporary paddocks and there was the sound of crickets off in the distance.

Kelly pulled her knees up under her chin and hugged them to her as she tried to make sense of her dream. The dream felt as if it were about her, but she didn't recognize the red haired girl in it. She didn't recognize any of the dream's other cast of characters and none of the faces in the girl's vision. Kelly tried to focus on remembering each of the faces in the girl's vision. As they ran through her mind she allowed them to linger long enough to see if they aroused any kind of feeling. Only one did, although she wasn't able to determine why or even what the feeling was. It was the man with the long dark hair and the gentle brown eyes. The only way she could describe the feeling she got when she remembered that particular face was un-nerving. Then her mind flashed on the last face in the red haired girl's vision and Kelly felt unmistakable fear.

She lay back down and stared up at the stars. She watched the dark star filled sky slowly turn to a pale blue as the sun rose and a new day began.

_1 Dancing Deer_

_2 Whiteman's name_

_3 Flaming Fox_

_4 Sun Eagle_

_5 Peyote - seed from a cactus that is a mild hallucinogen used in Sioux Vision Quest Ceremonies._

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter XII**_

_**It was pitch black around him...only a pale bluish light shone on the silhouette standing on the embankment in front and just above him. He was unable to make out any features of his challenger, only that they were a smaller build than him and was holding a very shiny Katana in a position of readiment.**_

_**The silhouette never spoke as they clashed blade to blade, the steel singing in the darkness and sparks flying like lightening bugs, nor did his opponent utter a sound. The silhouette moved silently, gracefully and skillfully blocking every one of Duncan's attacks and managed to out maneuver him on several occasions by using skill, speed and surprise.**_

_**A couple of times their blades locked and he almost got close enough to see who his opponent was. His gut told him this was definitely someone he knew, because the style and some of the tactics used seemed so familiar. But each time he would get close enough his opponent would find a way out of his grasp, cornering or locked swords.**_

_**The battle intensified as his opponent became more on the offensive and with more aggression until Duncan found himself questioning if he was going to be able to beat this small but skillful and determined opponent.**_

_**The silhouette began slashing viciously and with such rapid succession that Duncan was forced backward and downhill.**_

_**It was all Duncan could do to continually block his opponent's attacks. The heel of Duncan's boot hit up against a dead tree root and caused him to stagger backward, eventually losing his balance and falling backward across a large boulder protruding from the soil. He tried to do a shoulder roll and bring himself to his feet, still facing his attacker, but the silhouette was far too fast and seemed to know he would attempt that move, because his opponent moved swiftly close enough to use its foot to shove his body sideways and send him sprawling to the ground, his Katana falling from his grasp and ending up just out of reach.**_

_**Duncan rolled onto his back, raised his knees almost to his chest and when the silhouette got closer, extended both legs, planting his feet firmly in his opponent's abdomen with enough force to send the silhouette flying back up the embankment several feet, giving Duncan time to get to his feet and retrieve his sword .**_

_**As soon as Duncan's Katana was in his hand, before he even had time to straighten up, he could see the glint of his opponent's blade. He twisted his body so it was somewhat facing his attacker and at the same time raised his sword and blocked a forceful downward slash.**_

_**Using the momentum his arm gained as it raised his sword to block his opponent's thrusts to carry his arm beyond the necessary point to efficiently block the attacks and connect his elbow with his opponent's face causing it to stagger backward and that was when he heard the silhouette make any verbal sound. He heard a moan of pain and surprise. But what completely took Duncan by surprise was that he realized that his opponent was female.**_

_**He got to his feet and moved toward the silhouetted figure that had staggered back and ended up kneeling on one knee. She raised her sword to block any attack he might make. That was when Duncan made a near fatal mistake. He hesitated in rallying as she had done him when he was down.**_

_**Duncan's opponent wasted no time. She saw the hesitation and took full advantage of the momentary lapse and thrust her sword into Duncan's abdomen and then all the way through.**_

_**Duncan responded with a cry of pain and a look of surprise. He placed his hands on his opponent's that were still on the hilt of her sword and forced them backward thereby pulling the sword out of his body. Then when he was sure it was almost out, he threw **_

_**himself backward which not only finished removing the blade, but moved him a far enough distance from his enemy to be able to parry any thrust she might attempt, until, that is, he lost consciousness from the severe wound he had just sustained.**_

_**Her sword slid out smoothly and Duncan staggered back several steps before allowing himself to fall backward to the ground. The silhouette took several steps toward him and on the last, lunged with her sword leading.**_

_**Duncan summoned as much strength as he could and stretched one leg out on the ground, timing it perfectly so that it tripped his attacker. Duncan's thinking was becoming fuzzy as unconsciousness threatened him and he didn't consider the way she would fall after being tripped and was momentarily surprised when she fell forward and, although she twisted her body to try and avoid landing directly on top of Duncan, she did anyway.**_

_**Duncan's opponent struggled to get to her feet, but Duncan grabbed her shoulders and rolled her over so that she lay on her back and pinned beneath him. She struggled hard under his weight and he knew he wouldn't be able to fight her for long and he knew that him losing consciousness was exactly what she was waiting for. Then with one swift slice of her sword she would take his head and his Quickening. He wanted to see who it was who would be living the rest of his life for him.**_

_**A stream of light, seemingly sunlight, filtered down from somewhere above and spot lighted the ground about a foot away from them so Duncan managed to scoot her and him over to the small spot of light and when he had her in it he moved sideways just enough for the light to fall on her face.**_

_**At first Duncan froze and stared in disbelief at the struggling female. He stared in shock for a few seconds (although they seemed much longer), then he caught her flailing hands and pinned them along side her head. He found his voice and spoke as evenly and gently as possible.**_

_**"Caitlin. Caitlin, stop. It's me. Caitlin don't do this. Please, sweetheart. I know it's you. Please recognize me. Please see me. Baby please stop. Caitlin..." His voice trailed off as the girl underneath him showed no recognition of him and brought her knee up sharply into his groin.**_

_**As darkness began to creep to the edges of Duncan's vision and slowly began to darken the world around him, Duncan dropped to the ground and rolled on his side, his back to the girl. He could hear her struggle to her feet, heard her retrieve her sword. He heard her footsteps as they came closer and he could feel an energy from her body as she stood over him.**_

_**"Caitlin, please don't do this," he pleaded. Then he heard her inhale and he knew she had raised her sword over her head.**_

_**"There can be only one," he heard her say and he turned to look into her eyes as her blade swept downward.**_

Duncan screamed as he sat up in bed. He was soaked from sweat. He looked around the room, recognized it as his bedroom and then glanced to the empty side of the bed. His memory flashed a vision of Caitlin sleeping peacefully on that side of the bed, but the vision turned terrifying as he saw in his mind the look in her eyes, that look of non-recognition as she brought her sword down toward his neck.

He lay back down and pulled her pillow up to him and hugged it tightly as he fought to control his body's uncontrollable shaking. Then he buried his face into her pillow and wept harder than he had since Caitlin disappeared out of his life and heart.

_**to be continued**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter XIII**_

The morning of the rodeo's first round competition was a hectic one. Some of the competitors were practicing (ropers were lasoing dummy steers, or each other, barrel racers were putting their mounts through some basic reining exercizes, bull doggers were practicing their throw downs and the bronc and bull riders, that had finished their draw to see what hoirse or bull they were going to try and ride for eight seconds were working out in a roped off area that had been set up with weight benches, while others were grooming their horses, making last monute tack repairs or standing in line to pay entry fees or draw for their bronc or bull. And some were simply lounging around their or their neighbor's "camp sites".

Kelly sat alone outside of Kevin and Toni's motor home. Kevin was waiting to draw for the bull riding event and Toni was helping a friend set up for the Grand Entry Parade. There was still four hours before everyone involved with the opening ceremonies had to be in their places and ready to go. Kelly tried to read a book she had bought at the last gas station they had stopped at, but she was having difficulty concentrating. Her thoughts kept nreturning to the dream she had had the night before. Frustrated she put the book down, got up and walked to the temporary paddock Patches shared with four other horses.

As she approached the aluminum railing that served as fences, Patches raised his head from the clump of hay he was munching. He tossed his head a couple of times, snorted and walked toweard the fence. He arrived at the fence before Kelly did and he stretched his neck across the fence toward her, cocked his head sideways and curled hi upper lip so his teeth showed in what looked like a grin. He snorted and straightened his head and shook it.

Kelly walked up to Patches smiling and reached up and placed her hand on his forehead and gently scratched him between the ears.

"Hi there, big fella," she said softly. Patches laid the side of his head on her shoulder. Kelly took her other hand and rubbed him under his throat and leaned her head against his. They looked like they had known each other for years instead of just a few months.

Patches had become her confidant. Only he knew that she had gotten to where she didn't know who she was or where she came from. Only Patches knew that she was being haunted by what appeared to be memories that were not her own and that she couldn't explain. Only Patches knew that she had started to question her own instincts regarding certain situations. And only Patches knew that there were certain events from her past that she was forgetting, that she couldn't even remember her wedding to Paul or whjat he and her stepchildren loked like anymore. Only Patches knew that not a night went by that Kelly didn't have some sort of dream or nightmare in which she saw, even if for a second, the face of a very handsome man with long dark hair, expressive...almost hypnotic brown eyes that she did not recognize but stirred some feelings deep inside of her that she couldn't describe and that made her very uncomfortable and unsure and that she had decided that, even though she couldn't be sure what she was feeling was fear, she was going to listen to the inner alarms it was setting off and should her path ever cross the mysterious man, she would treat him as she had any of those in the Organization's database and eliminate the problem post haste.

Kelly dug in her jeans pocket and pulled out two sugar cubes which she fed, one by one to Patches with one hand while she stroked his neck with the other. She looked into his eyes and he looked back at her as if he were looking into her soul. When he finished the second cube he tossed his head then lowered it so that he and Kelly were looking eye to eye.

"Yeah, I had another nightmare," Kelly said softly and reached out and gently rubbed his muzzle with her fingertips. She proceeded to tell him about her dream and how she woke up and was not only uinable to get back to sleep but afraid if she did it would repeat itself.

"I just wish I knew why some of these dreams seem so real," she went on. "It's as if they are my memories. They're that vivid and some seem to bring about some rather intense feelings. But I can't expain why because awake they mean nothing to me. They're not familiar at all." She stopped and walked up to the fense, turned around with her back to it and leaned against it and stared up at a whispy white cloud that moved slowly across the blue sky, changing shape as it went along its journey.

"Oh, Patches. I just don't know. I'm not sure about anything anymore. I'm just so confused." She turned to look at the horse that remained nearby as if enthralled in her words. "Like that guy we met yesterday. Remember? The one who watched our practice run?" Patches tossed his head up and down as if nodding that he remembered. "I swear I have never seen him before in my life but...I don't know...I felt something when I looked in his eyes. I don't know what it was but it was something. And the way he looked at me. I felt like he was searching my soul for something he'd lost. Does that make any sense? That's the only way I can explain it." Patches moved closer to Kelly and she rested her head against his neck. "I felt something like that a couple of months ago when I went into that arena owner's office and saw that old poster of a French Circus troop. It was the picture of the high wire act, the blond chick I told you about. I felt something pulling me to the poster." She turned her back to the fence again. "God Patches. Am I losing my mind?" She asked.

Patches laid his head across her shoulder from behind her and rested it there. He gave a short snuffle as if in answer to her question.

"I don't know. I think I might be. Besides," she said as she reached up and hugged his face, "what do you know? You're no shrink. You're just a horse."

Patches raised his head up and grabbed the back brim of her couwboy hat with his teeth and lifted it off of her head.

"Hey!" She said and turned around. She tried to grab it but he stepped back and out of her reach. "Give me that back!" She tried reaching over the fence but Patches stepped backward agaoin. He tossed his head with Kelly's hat still in his mouth.

Kelly climbed through the rungs of the fence and stepped closer to the Paint, but Patches turned and loped off playfully. Kelly chased him for awhile and finally gave up.

"Fine. You keep it. It'll look better on you anyway," she laughed and turned to walk away. She had almost reached the fence when Patches snuck up behind her and set the hat on her head (crooked but the idea was right). Kelly straightened her hat and without looking back said, "Thanks, Brat."

Patches stepped up and nudged her with his nose just hard enough to cause her to lose her balance and she tripped over a stone in the ground and went sprawling face first into a mud puddle. As she pushed herself up she turned and looked up at Patches who appeared to be laughing.

"Oh yeah. Real funny," she said and threw a handful of mud at the horse who stepped back avoiding the flying mud. Kelly began scraping mud off of her face and out of her eyes. Suddenly a picture ran through her mind. It was of her, dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top...something she never would have worn...and she was scraping mud off of herself. Sitting on the ground next to her was the man she kept seeing in her dreams, also covered in mud. He was laughing and holding a garden hose which he proceeded to squirt her with. Then just as suddenly as the picture had appeared in her mind it disappeared and she sat, frozen in place. After a few minutes she realized she was trembling. She struggled to her feet and walked slowly to the fence, crawled through it and headed for Kevin and Toni's motor home.

Kelly showered and changed clothes. When she was presentable, she went outside and sat in the hammock and stared up at the sky. She had a couple of hours left before having to get ready fior the rodeo so she laid back in the hammock and tried to sleep but her miond kept reviewing the nightmares and dreams and the vision she experienced in the paddock earlier.

"There's got to be a logical explanation," she thought to herself. "I just wish I could figure it all out."

**_TO BE CONTINUED_**


	14. Chapter 14

**_Chapter XIV_**

Duncan spent most of his morning working out and fixing minoir repairs around the house. He was trying to keep busy and avoid thinking about his nightmare. Just before noon he felt the buzz of an Immortal's arival.

Methos parked next to MacLeod's T-Bird and gotr out of his car. Duncan appeared along the side of the house, probably coming from the back yard. He looked better than the last time Methos had seen him which had been a few days before. Methos was glad that his friend had kept his promise to not climb back into a bottle. And it showed. His complexion now had some color, his eyes were brighter and he walked with his shoulders back and his head up. He was beginning to look like the old Duncan...the Duncan that everyone knew and loved.

Methos knew that the transition had been rough on MacLeod, he had stood by him through the worst of it and he had never promised Mac that it would be easy, but he assured him the results would be more rewarding than the ones he would have if he chose to remain in drunken oblivian.

Methos walked toward MacLeod and raised his hand in a hap-hazard wave of greeting and said, "Ola compadre!"

Duncan grinned and shook his head. "Your Spanish accent needs some work."

"Everyone's a critic," Methos laughed.

"What brings you to my humnble abopde?" Duncan asked. "Avouiding work again?"

Methos pretended to look hurt. "You wound me, MacLeod," he said. "Have you ever known me to avoid my responsibilities?"

"I won't even go there," Duncan said. "Want a beer?" And he headed into the house.

"What do you think?" Methos answered and followed MacLeod into the house. "So what have you been doing this morning?" Methos asked noticing paint spatters in Mac's hair. He went into the kitchen and helped himself to a beer from Duncan's frig.

"Just some minor things that needed repaired," Mac answered.

"That sounds like stuff you'd do because you're getting bored," Methos said as he took a seat on a bar stool.

Duncan went into the kitchen, washed his hands and poured himxself some iced tea from a pitcher in the vfrig. "I couldn't possibly be making repairs because they need to be done, huh?" He asked and turned to face Methos and leaned against the sink.

"Of course. How could I have forgotten? The boiy Scout is so responsible," Metyhos sneered.

"What did you call me?" Duncan said pretending to be offended.

Methos held up one hand in surrender as he took a drink from his beer. "Not a thing, Mac," he said after swallowing.

"Didn't think so," Duncan chuckled. Methos thought how good it was to see his friend smile again. "So you just came out here to check up on me?" Duncan asked.

Metho shook his head. "Do you need to be checked up on?" Methos baited him.

"Typical," Duncan sneered. "Answer a question with a question. I think you spent too much time hanging around Jung."

"Boy, you sure are in a grouchy mood," Methos teased. "Who pissed in your Post Toastees?"

A serious exspression came across Dubncan's face. It was obvious to Methos that Duncan had takenm his comment seriously and that told Methos that, even though he had been joking, Mac was in a less than "good" mood and knew it. "Lucky guess," Methos thought to himself. "OK, Mac. What's up?" Methos asked.

Duncan shook his head and walked out on the front porch and sat on the porch swing. "Nothing, really," he said before walking out the door. Methos picked up his beer with a sigh and followed Mac outside.

"Come on MacLeod," Methos said as he perched on the porch railing in front of Duncan.

"Duncan looked at a knot in the wood grain of the porch railing next to Methos. When he spoke his voice was husky.

"It's a dream I had last night," he said. "Actually a nightmare."

"Let me guess," Methos said. "Either you got beheaded or someone you cared about did."

Duncan looked at Methos because he got the feeling that his friend was making a joke about it but the lloik on Methos' face was extremely serious.

"You think you'rte the oinly one who has dr4eam like that?" Methos asked. "Hell we all do."

Duncan shook his head. "Not like this," he said.

"Who got beheaded?" Methos asked.

"I did," Duncan said quietly.

"Let me guess," Mehtos said thoughtfully. "An unknown challenger...or you couldn't see his face."

"It was Caitlin," Duncan stated, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes glistened as tears threatened to come tumbling out.

Methos head jerked up when Dunbcan said her name and he stared at Duncan.

Duncan looked up to see why Methos was so quiet and saw the look on Methos' face.

Methos finally found his voice. "Why?" He asked. "Just out of the blue she wanted your head?" When Duncan didn't answer right away Methos added, "I supopoise you froze or lost your sword or something."

Duncan shook his jhhead and looked down as if studying his feet. "No," he said. "I fought like my life depended on it. I didn't even know it was her until the very end because it was so dark where ever we were. She was just better I guess. It wasn't until just before she took my head that I saw who it was." Duncan paused. "Only it wasn't her. Not the way I...we know her."

"What do you mean?" Methos asked leaning forward.

"She was..." Duncan paused trying to choose his words...trying to figure oiut how to explain it. "Different."

"OK," Methos said. "Define different. Did she look different, sound diffeerent? Or just act different? I mean for Caitlin to want your head...definatelly means she was acting different. Granted...you've pissed her off a few times but never enough for her to want to kill you. Not permanently at least."

"She looked diffeerent...sort of," Duncan attempted to explain. "Her hair was shorter and not as red and her face...I don't knoiiw, Methos. It was her but it wasn't." Mac swallowed against the lump in his throat. "It was as if she didn't know me. She looked at me like I was a stranger to her. An enemy."

Methos leaned back against the porch post and looked up at the trail of an airplane that slashed across the blue sky.

"It was something deep in her eyes," Methos spoke still looking up at the sky. "Wasbn't it?"

Duncan looked at Methos curiously. "Yes. Very deep."

"Did she speak to you?" Methos asked still looking up.

"Just at the end," Duncan answered sadly as he remembered the only words she spoke to him were the words of death.

"Was it her voice?"

Duncan nodded, "It was a little different, but it was her voice."

"If someone like me or Joe heard a recording of it or on the phone," Methos said. "Would we recognize it was her?"

Duncan had to think about the answer to that one. He wondered if, in all honesty, he'd only heard her voice on the phone, would he have recognized it.

Methos realized that Mac couldn't answer the question so he asked another one. "What did she say when she spoke?"

"'There can be onlkky one'," Duincxan said so softly that Methos barely heard him. He did hear, however, Mac's voice break at the end.

Methos thought about Mac's answer. In all the time he had known Caitlin he had only witnessed two of her battles and niether time had she said that just before the final blow. And she had only been recorded as havinbg said it two times in her life, according to the records on file with the Watchers. He remembered asking her about that one time and she had told him that she thought it was an egotistical assumption and, since she was a firm believer in Kharma, didn't think it was necessary. She had told him the the times she had said it...it was because she had hated the person she had battled so much.

"So what makes you so sure it was her?" Methos asked looking at Duncan.

Duncan shrugged and sat back in the swing. "I can't explain it, Methos," he said. "I just know. I'd know Caitlin if she'd had complete plastic surgery done. She's my wife, damn it. I know every inch of her...inside and out. It was my Caitlin." Tears began to run down his face and he lowered his head. "But she didn't know me."

"And she definately was going to successfully take your head? You didn't just wake up and assumed it happened?"

Duncan closed his eyes. "I saw her blade coming straight for me and I was powerless to stop her. She had already disarmed me and I was nearing ujnconsciousness from a fatal wound she'd already given me." Duncan stopped for a couple of minutes. "I woke up as I felt the cold steel against my neck."

Methos shuddered. To put the image out of his mind he thought about the female Immortal he saw at the rodeo trials the day before. As with Duncan he had been unable to pin point what made him think the girl on the horse was Caitlin, but he would have laid money on Duncan and saw him watching him.

"What is it, Methos?" Mac asked carefully watching his friend's face.

"Hmmm? Nothing," Methos shook his head.

"Bull shit, Methos," Duncan said sitting forward in the swing. "I know that look. What is it?"

Methos looked at Duncan and realized he hadn't done a very good job of hiding his thoughts and that only lie he told Mac now would be obvious. But how could he tell him the truth? What if it wasn't Caitlin? Mac would be crushed all over again.

"Methos, talk to me," Duncan said. "What is going through your mind?"

"Really, MacLeod, nothing."

Duncan stood up and grabbed Methos by the lapels of his shirt and shoved him hard against the porch pillar. "You've seen her, haven't you?" Duncan said. The look in his eyes actually scared Methos. Mainly because he couldn't actually tell what he was seeing since it was a combination of anger, hurt, hope, fear and love. Duncan shook Methos. "Tell me, Methos. Have you seen Caitlin?"

Methos looked directly at Duncan and before he could think about how to answer his friend he blurted out, "I don't know, Mac. I don't know."

Duncan let go of Methos and stared at him, dumbfounded. Methos stepped aside and rolled his eyes wishing he hadn't said that.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Duncan asked. He remained standing as he was when he had shaken Methos but his eyes were now closed tightly.

Methos walked over to the chair next to the couch and plopped into it. He took a deep breath and began to explain to Duncan about his encounter with the cowgirl. By the time he finished Mac was sitting on the couch and staring at him intently. He finished saying, "That's why I said I don't know."

"Are you sure she didn't recognize you?" Duncan asked.

"Not a glimmer," Methos answered.

"And you said she looked different?"

Methos nodded. "Not anything I can put my finger on, but, yeah," he answered wishing he had a better answer.

"Then why do you think it was her?" Duncan asked.

"Just something in her eyes," Methos tried to explain. "The way she sat the horse." He shook his head. "I wish I could explain, but I can't. Like I said...I don't know if it was Caitlin or not."

"Would you bet money on this hunch of yours?" Duncan asked.

Methos had to think about that for a few minutes. Then he said, "If I had an extra fifty bucks to throw away? Yeah...I would. But if it was my last fifty and I was out of beer? No...I wouldn't." He saw the look of disappointment on Duncan's face. "Hery...you asked." He walked into the house and headed for the kitchen, discarded his empty beer bottle in the trash can and got another one out of the frig.

Duncan followed Methos into he house and sat on a bar stool at the kitchen bar. He placed his elbows on the counter and entertwined his fingers. He stared at his hands in silence.

As Methos removed the cap on the fresh beer bottle and tossed it in the trash can he glanced around the emaculate kitchen and a thought ran through his head. "Damn. I do miss Caitlin's cooking. Haven't had a home cooked meal in years now." He turned around and looked at Duncan as he took a couple of long swigs of beer.

Duncan was desparately tryiong to get his mind around what Methos had told him. "What if it was Caitlin," he thought to himself. "Whgat kind of terrible thing did she go through to cause her to have complete amnesia?" Then another thought overlapped the first one. "What if someone did this to her?" He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Why would someone do this to her? What would be the purpose? What would be their pay off? And who could 'they' be?" He opened his eyes, got up and walked to the front door and stared outside.

"What are you thinking?" Methos asked as he took another drink of beer.

Duncan shoved his hands in his pockets but said nothing.

"Come on Mac. I know you've got to be thinking something," Methos pressed.

Duncan shrugged. "I'm thinking that the T-Bird needs an oil change," he said in a monotone.

"Right. Might as well time it and change the plug thingies, too, while you're atr it," Methos said sarcastically.

Duncan shot Methos a glance and shook his head, a smirk on his face. "Plug thingies?" He chuckled. "You lack of knowledge of automobile engines constantly amazes me."

Methos shrugged. "Never really neede to learn that stuff. That's why God in all His infinite wisdom created mechanics." Methos finished his beer and set the boittle on the bar. He looked at the clock on the mantle and took a couple of steps toward the front door.

Duncan turned to face him. "Going somewhere?" He asked.

"Yeah...before you expect me to get greasy helping you," Methos smirked.

"I'll remember that," Mac grinned and stepped aside.

Methos touched his finger tips to his forehead as if doffing an invisible hat and nodded at Duncan as he stepped pat him and out the door. He had a date with a brown and white Painted pony and its rider and he didn't want to be late.

Duncan watched Methos until his car disappeared from view then he went out the back door, got his tools from the tool shed in the back yard and went out to the T-Bird. He proceeded to do what he was thinking...without thinking.

**_TO BE CONTINUED_**


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter XV**_

Kelly took a look in the mirror on the bathroom door in the motor home. She straightened her hat and bolero tie and examined her reflection again.

"Passable," she shrugged and stepped out of the motor home into the evening air.

Kevin and Toni had already left for the arena even though they weren't part of the opening ceremonies. Kelly was however.

The PRA had a tradition that the competitors who had consistently ranked in the top five in their events six times put their names in the "hat" and before each rodeo names were drawn to see who would participate in the Grand Entry parade.

Kelly had been drawn to be a member of the color guard and carry the American Flag. It was her first time and during the run through earlier that day she found out it wasn't as easy as it looked.

The flag pole set into a specially made "cup" on the outside of the right stirrup. But the pole was seven feet tall and made of solid pine so it was heavy. The flag itself was a standard military size flag made of heavy duty fabric which added to the weight and also making the whole thing top heavy. To make things even more of a challenge the color guard didn't walk their horses into and around the arena..they came in and completed two laps around the arena at a full gallop, finally coming to a stop in the center of the arena close to the grand stands.

The color guard consisted of three flag bearers and two "escorts". One flag bearer carried the PRA's flag, one carried the flag of the state they happened to be in and one carried the American flag. One "escort" led them into the arena and the other brought up the rear. When they ended their "procession" the PRA flag was on the left, the state flag on the right and the Stars and Bars in the middle and an "escort" on each end.

In most cases the National Anthem was a John Philip Sousa tape played over the P.A. system, but there were times when the rodeo was part of a state or county fair in which a popular entertainer was performing and then it would be sung a Capella

After the National Anthem all of the competitors would gallop into the arena, complete one lap and line up behind the color guard. That's when the president of the PRA would present any trophies and/or awards. If it was a major rodeo (which was determined by the size of the sponsor, crowd and how many days they ran for) the reigning PRA Queen would enter the arena, complete two laps, stop just behind the color guard, dismount and join the president at the microphone and crown the new queen who was elected by the PRA members.

To be eligible to even be nominated, the young lady had to be single (and unattached), been a PRA member for a minimum of five months, competed in six consecutive rodeos and ranked in the top three in her events. (If she raced barrels and heeled in the team roping she had to rank no less than third in both events.) The PRA Queen wasn't picked for her beauty but because the members believed she was someone who could best represent the PRA as a spokesperson and icon. Their votes were based on the candidates' accomplishments, advocacy, contribution (non-monetary) and horsemanship.

The young lady who won the crown was also awarded $10,000 either in the form of a scholarship to the higher education institution of her choice or as a 401K, CD or Money Market Account deposit.

Since the Queen's reign was a short one (Unlike the beauty contestant queen who reigned a full year) her only other "perks" were the free unlimited (during her reign) use of whoever was their major sponsor's products.

Her only responsibilities as PRA Queen (besides reigning over the smaller rodeos until she crowned a new queen at the next major event) was to act as a spokesperson for the PRA and whoever was their sponsor at the time. She would assist the PRA's "Public relations"/event coordinator by "volunteering" her time on the phone scheduling appointments with city officials in preparation of an upcoming event, and, if time permitted, help with one of the PRA's three "pet" charities; the Pegasus Foundation, Mustang Spirit and/or Ronald MacDonald House.

Although the reign was short and definitely not as glamorous as Miss USA or Miss Universe (and that includes the monetary awards), and usually entailed some busy, hard work in a short period of time, being crowned Miss PRA was considered an honor by every member of the association and each young lady who had reigned as queen was proud to display the tiara and sash she was allowed to keep when her reign ended.

Kelly had not attended the voting banquet because Patches had been favoring his front right leg and, even though she could find no obvious injuries she stayed with Patches, rubbing the leg down with liniment. And since the PRA banquets usually ended late, Kelly had bed in bed when Toni and Kevin returned. The next few days had been busy as they were closing one rodeo and getting ready to travel to the next one and the subject of what had gone on during the banquet never came up. So Kelly had no idea who the nominees had been. And because she didn't consider the subject as important as the latest records in the barrel racing event being made by the top riders in the PRCA and IRCA she hadn't given it a second thought.

A PRA groupie (a local boy) who was working as a "stable boy" had already taken Patches out of the paddock and curried him until his coat shined like glass and his main and tail were combed. When Kelly walked to the "Set up" area, Patches was tethered to one of the horse trailers parked there for that reason, and he had been saddled and bridled in his "dress" tack.

Patches heard Kelly approach and cocked his head to the side so he could see her. He stomped his front hoof on the ground and snorted his greeting.

"Hey, Kelly," a cowboy covered in mud called out from nearby. "Lookin' so fine tonight," he complimented her and followed it with a loud wolf whistle.

Kelly blushed, tipped her hat and grinned at the man. When she saw the cowboy's disheveled appearance she laughed. "What the hell happened to you?" She called out.

From the horse trailer behind him suddenly appeared an equally as muddy lady. She was laughing and waving a big blue first place ribbon.

"Mud wrestling," she called out. "And I won."

"Good for you, June!" Kelly applauded and continued walking up to Patches.

"Wow, Kelly," another cowboy called out. "You clean up real nice." Then he called over his shoulder, "hey, Lance! Check out our Kelly."

From behind a big old lazy Brahma Bull with a sagging hump that was tethered to someone's pick up truck appeared one of the four PRA rodeo clowns.

"Don't she clean up good?" The cowboy called back and the clown crawled under the docile bull's belly, stood up, pinched his red clown nose so it honked and fell backwards to the ground as if he'd fainted. The bull looked down at him and proceeded to lick his face with its big wet tongue. The clown coughed and sputtered and smacked the side of the bull's nose with his beat up hat, rolled over and staggered to his feet.

Kelly was now completely embarrassed by all the attention, but deep down inside a part of her she didn't recognize was enjoying it.

And they were right. Normally clad in faded jeans or bib overalls, t-shirts and boots or moccasins, Kelly was dressed in a pair of lavender ladies western slacks and a white satin western blouse with lavender lace around the bodice and the cuffs of the puffy sleeves. She wore a silver belt with the belt buckle she had won two rodeos ago. Her hat was lavender felt with a white lace and royal purple ribbon as a hat band that dropped off the back brim and fell down to the middle of her back. Her boots matched her slacks.

Even Patches was "dressed" for the occasion. The boy who had curried and saddled him had braided a few lavender colored leather laces into his mane and tail so that he matched Kelly.

Kelly untied Patches and led him over to the long table where the PRA Vice President, Secretary and the owner of the fairgrounds were "issuing" the flags to the color guard and assigning everyone else their order for the Grand Entry.

"Hello, Kelly," the PRA VP, Maggie Coleman, said as Kelly stepped up to the table.

"Hi, Maggie," Kelly answered.

"You look wonderful," Maggie said as she got up and pulled the American flag out of a long box. She removed the cover as she handed it to Kelly.

"Thank you," Kelly said politely and took the flag. She moved away from the table and climbed into the saddle. She leaned the flag pole against Patches as she removed a pair of white leather riding gloves from her belt and put them on. Then she lifted the flag pole over Patches, placed the bottom of the pole in the "cup" and unrolled it so the flag was unfurled. She nudged Patches into their spot behind the Washington state flag and waited for their cue.

Methos had stopped on the way to the fairgrounds and picked up Joe. He pulled into a parking place and both men got out and walked to the gate where they purchased tickets and went inside. They found seats near where Methos had sat the day before only this time there were many people sitting around them. They waited in silence for things to start.

A Sousa march began to play over the P.A. system and the first two riders disappeared into the arena. Then the rider in front of Kelly galloped in and Kelly moved Patches forward. When she heard her music cue she leaned forward, gripped the flag pole and made a clucking sound and Patches galloped into the arena. As she made the turn into the straight-away that was in front of the grand stands she felt the buzz of an Immortal. She didn't look into the crowd until she was on the back side of the arena and then she glanced into the audience. At first she didn't see anyone that looked familiar but then she saw Methos whom she recognized from the day before. She managed to keep her focus as she made her second lap around and came to a stop in her position in front of the audience.

The National Anthem was played and the rest of the Grand Entry came into the arena and took their place behind the color guard. The President approached the microphone and introduced the reigning Miss PRA who made her entrance, did her two laps and took her place behind the color guard. She dismounted and joined the president at the mike.

"The Professional Rodeo Association is proud to announce," the president said, "our new PRA Rodeo Queen is..." He paused for effect then said, "Miss Kelly McKinney."

Kelly's mouth dropped open. She sat frozen in her saddle totally in shock. The audience and her fellow members were applauding, cheering and whistling but she was deaf to the noise. The rider next to her moved her horse sideways so she could take hold of Kelly's flag pole. Finally Kelly regained her composure and dismounted her horse and walked up to the mike. The reigning queen took a sash from the president and slipped it over Kelly's head and straightened it out. Then she took a tiara from the president and snapped it above the brim of Kelly's hat. Kelly managed a smile but she felt numb. She walked back to Patches, got back into the saddle and nudged him forward to trot the traditional lap around the arena. Then she took her position back, as well as the flag pole, and galloped out of the arena with the rest of the color guard.

Methos looked over at Joe who was writing something down in his notebook. He waited for Joe to say something and when he didn't, Methos finally spoke up.

"Well? What do you think?" Methos asked.

Joe put his notebook away and looked at Methos. "I'm not sure what to say," Joe said quietly. "But now I know why you're confused about it. Let me put it this way...if Caitlin had had a sister, this girl would be her."

Methos remembered something Duncan had asked him. "This morning Mac asked me if I would bet money on the fact that it was Caitlin."

Joe looked at him. "What did you say?"

"That if I had fifty bucks to throw away I would," Methos answered.

Joe looked into the arena and nodded. "Yeah...it's not a hand I'd bet the farm on."

They both sat silently and watched the rest of the rodeo.

That night after the party the members threw to congratulate her, Kelly crawled into her sleeping bag in the hammock outside of the motor home and fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

_**The day is warm and sunlight filters through the tall pines that reach up to touch a crystalline blue sky and there is not a cloud in sight. For a few moments the only sound is that of a waterfall dumping the winter's melting snow into a clear pond surrounded by fern covered rocks and the occasional call of Blue Jays and bark of a squirrel. The peacefulness is interrupted by the sound of horses galloping hooves in the distance but getting closer. The sound comes from a meadow filled with colorful wildflowers, some of which are being scattered to the wind as 2 riders, one considerably closer than the other, race across the meadow towards the tree line. The first rider to clear the meadow and come to an abrupt stop a few feet from a large flat, smooth rock at the edge of the pond is a young girl with long red hair lying loose around her shoulders. She is dressed in a pair of jeans and a western style shirt and a beat up straw cowboy hat. She dismounts, laughing. The second rider is a very attractive man with sun tanned skin, deep brown eyes and long black hair. He is dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that shows off the muscles in his arms. He clears the meadow and comes under the canopy of pines just as the red haired girl strips off her clothes and dives into the pool. The man pulls his horse up next to hers, dismounts, also laughing, undresses and dives into the pool, surfacing directly in front of the girl. First he places his hand on the top of her head and pushes her under the water. Then, after she surfaces and has playfully splashed him a couple of times, he takes her into his arms and they kiss. The girl breaks away, laughing once again, splashes the man and swims toward the waterfall disappearing under the curtain of water. The man follows. Behind the waterfall is a ledge of smooth rock, carved by years of water. By the time the man clears the curtain of water; the girl has climbed onto the ledge and is lying on her side, propped up on one elbow water glistening on her already tanned body. She smiles seductively down at the man. He continues to tread water below the ledge, admiring her beauty, then he reaches up to the edge of the ledge, and with very little effort, pulls himself up and out of the water and onto the ledge next to the girl. Placing his fingers under her chin and raising her face to meet his, he softly kisses her. He moves his hand from her chin to the back of her neck as he gently pushes her onto her back. Cradling her head in his hand he begins kissing her neck. The girl responds by arching her back and entwining her fingers into his shoulder length hair. Behind the curtain of water, the two make love.**_

Kelly woke up and looked around. Even though there was no one around, she felt embarrassed by her provocative dream. She looked up at the stars overhead and thinks about the dream. She had dreamed about the red haired girl before...but other than that she didn't recognize her (Although deep down inside there was a strange feeling of familiarity) and she had dreamt about the man almost every night although she had no idea who he was (which confused her as to why she had experienced such a provocative reaction to dreaming about him making love to the red haired girl). She finally dozed back to sleep...unaware that she had a slight smile on her face.

Duncan woke up as the sun was barely lighting the sky. He wasn't sure what woke him, only that going back to sleep was no longer an option. He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweat pants then headed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Then he went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Showered and shaved, Duncan went back to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. He opened the front door and retrieved the Seacouver Times from the front porch. Taking a seat on the couch, he opened the paper.

Section A of the Seacouver Times covered world and national news. Section B covered local news, weather and entertainment news. Section C covered sports and the classifieds.

As was his normal morning routine, Duncan started by reading Section A cover to cover. By the time he had absorbed the events of the world and nation his coffee cup was empty so he got up and poured himself another cup and returned to the couch and opened Section B. He took a sip of his coffee and smoothed the paper out on the coffee table. He was just about to look at the picture that accompanied the lead article when the phone rang. Taking his cup of coffee with him he got up and went to the bar, sat on a bar stool and answered the phone, "MacLeod."

"Hey, your royal highness," Kevin teased from the picnic table outside of the motor home. "You' made the front page of the local paper."

"What?" Kelly said coming out of the motor home with a plate of pancakes Toni had just made. "Let me see that," she said as she set the plate in the middle of the table next to the bottle of syrup. Kevin handed her the Seacouver Times B Section. She stared at the image of her being crowned Miss PRA and another of her and Patches taking their ceremonial lap around the arena afterwards. The caption read, "Miss Kelly McKinney was crowned Miss Professional Rodeo Association before the rodeo being held at the Seacouver Fairgrounds. She will reign over the rodeo which runs through Sunday."

"Oh no," Kelly thought to herself. She wondered how many people outside of Seacouver read the Seacouver Times. She went on to read the short article that accompanied the two pictures.

Methos sat at the bar in Joe's, nursing a cup of coffee. Joe walked in from his office, went behind the bar and plopped the Seacouver Times B Section on the bar in front of Methos.

"Does Mac take the paper?" Joe asked as Methos scanned the front page.

Without answering, Methos grabbed his cell phone and dialed Duncan's number.

Robert Woods was concentrating so hard on what he was typing into his computer that he actually jumped when his secretary buzzed him on the intercom to tell him Mr. Conroy needed to see him. He rolled away from the computer and told her to let Mr. Conroy in. Seconds later a very large man strode into Wood's office and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Wood's desk. As he sat down he tossed the Seacouver Times Section B on the desk.

Woods picked up the paper and a smile (more like a sneer) came across his face as he looked at the two pictures. Then he read the article. Mr. Conroy had highlighted one particular paragraph with a yellow highlighter pen and Woods focused his attention on that paragraph which read, "The PRA will be packing up and leaving Seacouver on Sunday and will be moving to Seattle where they will be busting broncs and roping steers during the King County Fair two weeks from now _(see schedule on back page)_. Admission to the rodeo is free with Fair admission."

Woods looked up from the newspaper at Mr. Conroy. "Where the hell is Seacouver, Washington?" He asked.

"West of Seattle on the Puget Sound," Conroy answered. "We going to Seacouver to get her, boss?"

Woods thought about it for a minute then said, "No. We'll let her have her moment in the sun. We'll pick her up in Seattle." With that he buzzed his secretary. "Get me on the next available flight to Seattle. Make that two seats and book me and Conroy rooms in a nice hotel and we'll need a rental car." Then to Conroy he said, "Get in touch with our office in Idaho and have them send us a team, just in case."

"Right, boss," Conroy said as he got up and lumbered out of the office.

Robert Woods picked up the Seacouver Times and carried it over to the window. He held it in the sunlight and looked at the pictures of the smiling Kelly McKinney.

"OK, young lady," he said to the pictures. "You've had your fun. Now it's time to come home."

"Yes. Just saw it," Duncan spoke into the phone. "Is that the girl you were talking about?"

Methos said that it was and waited for MacLeod to say something.

"I wish it was a better picture. I can't really see her face that well," Duncan said.

"Yeah I know," Methos agreed. Finally he asked the question most important to him. "Mac? Are you OK?"

Duncan didn't answer right away. Finally he said, "Yeah. I guess."

"You want me to come over?" Methos asked and glanced up at Joe who was looking at him worriedly.

"No. I'm fine," Duncan said and got up, went into the kitchen and pouted himself another cup of coffee. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Call if you need anything," Methos said.

"Thanks," Duncan returned to the couch. "I'll talk to you later." He hung up and proceeded to read the article accompanying the pictures.

"How's he taking it?" Joe asked when Methos hung up the phone.

"He says he's OK," Methos answered. "Sounds a little down."

"damn," Joe said.

"How do you think he's going to feel, Joe?" Methos said. "He's still raw from it all and, WHAM! This is shoved in his face. I know how I'd feel. Hell, I know I do feel."

"Yeah? And how's that?"

Methos thought to himself, "I don't want to pursue it. I don't want to be sure. Because if it turns out to not be her it'll hurt all over again. And if it is her than God knows what has happened." But he said aloud to Joe, "Like it's time for a beer."

Joe sighed and fished a bottle of beer out of the ice bin and pushed it across the bar to Methos and said dejectedly, "Yeah." He turned and walked back into his office and closed the door.

Methos watched him and when the door closed he turned his gaze to the mirror behind the bar and stared blankly at his own reflection, opened the bottle and took a long swig while staring at the mirror

Duncan finished reading the article and staring at the picture for the hundredth time and sat back on the couch and laid his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He was tempted to go to the fairgrounds and see for himself but something inside him advised against it. He went over and over it in his head for a couple of hours and finally he sat up and folded up the newspaper, stood, walked into the kitchen and tossed it into the trash can under the kitchen sink. He went into the bedroom and changed into his Hakama and took a rolled up bamboo mat from the shelf in the closet and went out to the front yard to work out and clear his mind.

Kelly didn't know why she turned on the almost invisible dirt road that ran through the forest but it seemed the most natural thing to do. Most people unfamiliar with the area would not have known the road was there or even noticed it because it consisted of only two narrow "ruts" created by the occasional car tire and those were nearly covered by ferns and other ground covering shrubbery. On either side of the narrow winding road was a dense rain forest of pine, spruce, oak and maple trees with a fern covered floor.

Kelly drove slowly along the road looking from side to side at the scenery. It was still early in the morning, the sun had only been up a little over an hour and a thin mist hovered about a foot off of the ground. At one point Kelly stopped her rental car, got out and wandered over to the side of the road and picked a sprig of wild lilac which she absentmindedly stuck in her hair above her left ear, then she got back in the car and continued on down the road. She had no idea where it was taking her but she felt drawn to whatever was at the end of the small dirt road.

Duncan opened his eyes and looked around at the dimly lit bedroom. The sun was just barely clearing the mountains to the east and casting long shadows in the bedroom. He was unsure what had awaken him. He didn't remember having a nightmare or unsettling dream and he didn't sense another Immortal. He listened to the morning sounds; birds singing, the house creaking with the changing temperature, a garbage truck off in the distance...all perfectly normal. There was no sound of an intruder.

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat there for a few minutes while his circulation leveled out. He stretched and yawned then stood up and took his robe from the back of the chair near the foot of the bed. Slipped it on and headed for the kitchen and the pot of coffee started by a timer. He poured himself a cup of coffee, went to the front door and retrieved the morning newspaper from the porch and took it and his coffee to the couch where he sat down and proceeded to read the paper.

After he finished reading the paper he nursed the remaining half cup of coffee while;e staring blankly out the front window. Once the cup was empty he debated on whether he wanted to refill it or not. As part of his debate he thought about what he needed to do that day and what he wanted to do. All repairs on the house had been completed including any repairs he had started on the T-Bird so his "Need To Do" list was empty. He got up and walked over to the window and looked up at the now blue sky. A fluffy white cloud drifted into his view and a memory drifted into his mind.

_**Flashback**_

_**It's 1883 in the mountains of the Pacific Northwest**_

_**Duncan and Caitlin are lying on their backs in a meadow in a field of colorful wild flowers and looking up at the sky which is a brilliant blue. There are a few fluffy white clouds scattered across it.**_

_**Caitlin points to one of the clouds and Duncan moves closer and follows the line of her finger trying to see what she's pointing out.**_

_**"Look at that one," she says. "It looks like a turtle."**_

_**Duncan tries to see a turtle in the small fluffy cloud formation, but can't.**_

_**"Do you see it?" She asks hopefully**_

_**Duncan shakes his head. "No baby , I don't." It's his turn to point. "But if you close one eye it does look like Connor after he's had too much Scotch," he chuckles.**_

_**Caitlin laughs and playfully smack him on the arm. "I'm going to tell you said that," she teases.**_

_**"Oh you are, are you?" He rolls over and props himself up on one elbow and reaches across her and begins to tickle her ribs.**_

_**"Stop...quit...stop," she laughs trying to squirm away. She pulls up a handful of wild flowers and throws them at him. While he sputters she jumps up and starts running toward the cabin.**_

_**Duncan gets to his feet and chases after her. He catches up to her several yards from the cabin and grabs her around the waist and gently pulls her to a stop. He spins her around so that she's facing him, bends over and presses his shoulder against her abdomen He puts his arms around her legs just below her hips and straightens up into a standing position which lifts her off the ground into a fireman's carry, carries her into the cabin, her squeals echoing through the meadow. He carries her upstairs and gently tosses her onto the bed and proceeds to make gentle yet passionate love to her and she to him.**_

_**Present Day**_

The sound of a children's ice cream truck playing Camptown Races on the street ¼ of a mile from the house brought Duncan back to reality. As he became aware of his surroundings he also became aware that he was smiling but he had evidently curled his hands into fists so tightly that he had dug his fingernails into his palms, breaking the skin and causing them to bleed. He closed his eyes for a second and said under his breath, "damn it!" He went to the bathroom, turned on the cold water in the sink and held his hands under the running water and watched his blood wash down the drain. When his hands healed he turned off the water and stood up, dried them and turned to leave the bathroom.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of his reflection in th medicine cabinet mirror. He stopped and turned to face the mirror. Although his complexion wasn't the ashen gray it had been a few months ago, he definitely lacked any healthy color in his face and there were dark circles under his eyes. He thought about his sleep habits lately. He had definitely been having difficulty not only falling asleep but staying asleep. On the nights that he didn't have a nightmare or unsettling dream, sounds...no matter how normal or minute...would bring him fully awake.

"That's it, MacLeod," he said to his reflection. "You need to get away from the city...away from the throng of well meaning friends, and go somewhere where you can get some rest and do some serious meditation and work out without interruptions. You need to get back into shape. This feeling sorry for yourself enough to not take care of yourself has got to stop. It stops now!" He turned and walked out of the bathroom.

Duncan went into the bedroom and took a duffel bag out of the closet. He filled it with some clothes and dressed in a pair of jeans and a loose fitting sweater. He put his boots on and tied his shoulder length hair into a pony tail. He picked up the duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder and went into the living room. He looked around then went to the front door. He took his coat from the coat rack, his sheathed sword down from the sword rack and slung it over his other shoulder and his keys from the key rack, opened the door and stepped out into the morning air. He locked and closed the front door and headed for the T-Bird.

Duncan threw his duffel bag and coat into the back seat and put his sword on the floor between the driver's seat and the door, got in and started the engine. He pulled on the driveway, then out onto the street and headed for the freeway.

Robert Woods and Mr. Conroy boarded their commercial flight in San Fransisco just as the first rays of sun began to turn the sky from black to purple then orange. As the plane taxied the runway in preparation for take off, the sun was appearing above the eastern horizon.

"Why do you think she ran off, boss?" Mr. Conroy asked Woods as their plane began to lift off of the ground and go into a steep climb.

"I'm not completely sure, Mr. Conroy," Woods said looking out the small window at the disappearing city below. "She didn't take precautions to stay out of the lime light which, I think anyway, shows that she wasn't trying to hide. Maybe her memories of the death of her family got to be too much and she decided she needed some time to herself. You saw the way she acted at the airport."

"Or she didn't actually hide because she forgot us and doesn't feel anything threatening," Mr. Conroy said.

Robert Woods turned his head and looked at his traveling companion. Then he shook his head. "No I would rather believe my version," he said.

"You haven't gone and got soft on her, have you, boss?" Conroy asked.

I'll pretend you didn't just ask me that,"Woods mumbled and pressed the button that reclined his seat, lay his head back and closed his eyes.

"I'm just sayin'..." Conroy started then decided it would be better if he didn't finish his statement Instead he decided to change the subject. "How will you know if the treatments have worn off? Or are wearing off?" He asked instead.

"That's why I have some of the best scientists, researchers and practitioners on my payroll. They will make that determination," Woods said without opening his eyes.

"If the treatments have worn off will you be able to re-implement them?" Conroy asked.

Woods turned his head without raising it and looked at Conroy. "What's with all the questions?" He asked. "You've never been interested in this stuff before."

Mr. Conroy shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I just don't want to see her go the way the others did. I kinda like her. She's..." he thought a minute then said, "different," and laid his head against the back of the seat.

"Now who's turned soft?" Woods chuckled. He and Conroy had worked together since the beginning and although the big man had zero class and very little education, once you got past that and his gruff exterior, Woods found him likable enough to never leave the city without him at his side.

"I'm just sayin'..." Conroy mumbled sleepily. The last thing he heard before drifting to sleep was Woods saying, "You're always 'just sayin' something."

Woods turned his head and stared out at the sea of white clouds just below the plane. As much as he hated to agree with Conroy, terminating Kelly would be a great disappointment. She had taken to the treatments better than any of the others (once she had quit fighting the preparation process and "deprogramming"). She had proven to be an asset in the brief time with the Association as a cleaner. And her successful "reprogramming" had made Woods proud. Her termination would be seen as a failure and Woods hated to fail. But if she was reverting or even forgetting who and what Kelly McKinney was supposed to be, chances were that any attempts to "re-program" her would fail somewhere down the road and that wasn't good enough. "What a waste," Woods thought to himself and closed his eyes, also drifting off to sleep.

**_TO BE CONTINUED_**


	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter XVI**_

Kelly brought her rental car to a stop when the road came to an end. In front of her was a large meadow surrounded and protected by the rain forest on three sides and the fourth, the mountain. In the northeast "corner of the meadow was a fairly large house with a log exterior. It had a partially covered porch, or deck, that extended the full length of the front of the dwelling, the railing made from hand cut and 'polished' manzanita trunks.

The house's most distinctive feature was the three almost floor to ceiling eight foot wide windows evenly spaced across the front of the cabin. The second eye grabbing feature was the large chimney that rose from the center of the cabin's roof, made from river boulders in a variety of shapes and sizes.

To the right and approximately sixty to seventy yards away from the cabin was a small barn, that had obviously been renovated recently. Next to it was a paddock with a shiny new aluminum fence.

The meadow was carpeted with plush wild grass and when the morning sun caressed it with warmth it came alive with a rainbow of color as the remaining Springtime wildflowers opened up to greet the day.

About fifty feet from the front steps a wooden bridge crossed a babbling brook that flowed all year long fed by a natural spring in the mountains during the summer and melting snow in the winter and Spring.

She put the car in gear and eased it over the small bridge that crossed the stream. She pulled up a few yards from the front porch of the house and turned off the engine. Cautiously. Kelly got out of the car and looked around. The meadow was completely silent except for the occasional cry of a hawk soaring lazily over head. She took in a deep breath of the clean fresh air and closed her eyes savoring the scent of the surrounding rain forest. It filled her lungs and washed over her like a comforting blanket.

She turned and looked at the house. While staring at the front door she was suddenly filled with a feeling of familiarity, warmth, safety and welcomeness as if she had been here before. But she didn't remember having ever been here and she added that feeling to the many other confusing feelings and thoughts she didn't understand.

She slowly walked up to the front porch, ascended the three steps up and stepped up to the front door. At first she just stood and stared at it. The set of double oak doors naturally stained and varnished each had a three foot tall oval, beveled glass window. The hinge side of the left door was the name "Caitlin" burned into the wood in Old English lettering. On the same part of the right door was the name "Duncan", also in Old English. Then across the middle of both doors just beneath the windows was the word "Paradise", also in Old English. Kelly realized that she had reached out and was gently tracing the name "Duncan" with her fingertips. She pulled her hand back wondering why that name seemed to spark such intense feelings in her.

Kelly took a deep breath, raised her hand and knocked on the door. When she got no answer she knocked again only a little harder. Still not getting an answer she stepped over to the first of the huge windows, placed a hand against the cool glass forming a "visor" of sorts and peered in. As far as she could tell the house was empty and had been for sometime. The furniture had been covered with white sheets and there was absolutely no sign of life.

Kelly left the front porch and wandered around the side of the house. She walked slowly towards the barn. She wasn't sure what she was looking for since it was obvious no one was around, but she seemed to be drawn here and she wanted to know why. As she came to the corner of the paddock she noticed one particular spot in the ground that seemed to be a 10' long mound of earth. At one end stood a 1"x8" piece of wood that had been stuck in the ground. She approached it and bent over to get a closer look.

The wood was badly weathered but the words that had been carved into it were still quite legible. It read: "Obsidian...companion, confidant & friend. Died 1883." Below the inscription was carved the profile of a horse's head. Kelly knelt down next to the mound and placed her hand on the top near the marker. She was suddenly overcome with a feeling of great sorrow. She yanked her hand back as if she had just touched something extremely hot and got to her feet. She backed away, still staring at the grave and a tear trickled down her cheek. She brushed it away and turned around and started walking away. She stopped suddenly feeling quite dizzy. As she tried to focus on her car here peripheral vision darkened and the darkness began to spread into her immediate vision

_**Flashback**_

_**A mountain meadow in the Pacific Northwest: 1883**_

_A girl with long red hair is inside a log cabin in a meadow. She obviously has been baking as she is wearing an apron and has flour on her hands, face and in her hair. She feels the buzz of another Immortal and walks out of the kitchen, through the living room, takes her sword from next to the front door, opens the door and steps out onto the front porch. From across the meadow a rider is seen coming towards her. As the rider gets closer she sees that it is a man with long dark hair. She steps back inside the cabin and leans her sword against the wall as it had been and returns to the front porch just as the rider brings his horse to a stop in front of the cabin. She steps off the porch and walks up to the man as he dismounts and they embrace _

_The man removes two cloth bags from the back of his saddle and hands them to the girl then removes a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to her also._

"_I was able to get everything on your list except for these three items," he says with a hint of a Scottish accent, and he points to the list._

"_That's OK," the girl smiles up at him._

_The man lifts his head and sniffs the air then looks down at the girl with a wide grin. "Someone's been baking again," he says as he smells the familiar aroma of fresh baked bread._

_The girl smiles proudly as she walks toward the cabin with the bags of supplies. "Uh huh. Your favorite."_

_The man's eyes light up as he asks, "Wild strawberry bread?'_

_From the front porch the girl turns around and smiles mischievously "Is that your favorite?"_

_The man strides up to the porch and reaches out grabbing her on both sides, proceeding to tickle her. "You know it is." She giggles and scurries into the cabin with the two bags._

_While she is in the cabin putting away the supplies, the man gets back on his horse and rides across the meadow to the place her entered the meadow from. The girl hears him ride away from inside the kitchen but assumes he is going hunting. Then she hears the sound of horse hooves returning._

"_Must have dropped something," she says aloud to the empty kitchen. She hears the horse come to a stop and hears the man's boots as he steps onto the porch and enters the cabin. She turns to smile at him as he comes into the kitchen. He is wearing the grin of a Cheshire cat as he walks up and takes her in his arms._

"_Do you know what day this is?" He asks._

_The girl thinks for a moment then answers, "Wednesday?"_

_The man laughs and says, "well...yes...but it's something else, too."_

_Puzzled the girl asks, "what?"_

_From behind his back he produces a small bouquet of flowers that he has obviously picked from the meadow and holds them out to her. She takes them, blushing, and looks up at him quizzically _

"_Happy anniversary, sweetheart," he says._

"_Anniversary?" she asks._

_The man nods. "We've been together four months today," he states._

_The girl is amazed that he has been kept track of their time together and is so romantic that he wants to celebrate each month. She smiles up at him and says, "I love you."_

_He takes her in his arms and kisses her passionately then lets her go. "And I love you," he says. Then he takes the flowers from her hand and sets them on the table. He places a steps up behind her, places one hand on her shoulder and covers her eyes with the other._

"_What are you doing?" She asks._

"_Trust me," he says mysteriously. He guides her through the living room of the cabin to the front porch, down the steps and has her take a few steps more. _

_She feels him take her hand and raise it upward in front of her. Then her palm is touching something. She tries to identify the object from her touch but is baffled The man removes his hand from her eyes as he says, "Happy Anniversary, my love."_

_The girl opens her eyes. She is staring at the most beautiful jet black horse she has ever seen. She looks at the man in shock. The man nods, "he's all yours, " he says proudly._

_Speechless, the girl proceeds to walk around the magnificent stallion, never removing her hand that the man had placed on the horse's cheek. "My God," she says. "He's magnificent."_

_The horse's jet black coat shines in the sunlight as if it were glass. His long, lush mane and tail looks as though someone has styled waves into it. His eyes are bright and full of intelligence as he watches the girl move around him, inspecting every inch of him. When she gets back to his head on the other side from where she started she places her hand on the soft muzzle of his nose and gently caresses it. She looks into his eyes and says, "Simply magnificent," and the stallion sneezes as if to say, "Thank you."_

_The girl steps back and looks at her new horse. "Obsidian," she says simply._

"_What?" The man asks._

_The girl walks over to him and puts her arms around his neck and kisses him then slips her arm around his waist and turns to look back at the horse. "Obsidian. That's his name."_

_The man contemplates this for a minute then says, "Obsidian." He pictures the shiny black gem stone, obsidian and smiles, knowingly. "Obsidian," he repeats. "It fits."_

"_The perfect name for the perfect horse given to me by the perfect man," she says and turns to face him. "I love you Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod."_

_The man looks down at the girl and smiles. "And I love you Caitlin O'Dell." _

_**Present Day**_

As Kelly's vision returned to her she realized that she was leaning on the hood of the rental car. "What is going on with me?" She asked out loud. Feeling a bit shaky and afraid to drive at that moment she decided to take a walk and clear her head before attempting to drive a car. She wandered towards the north side of the meadow following the stream that flowed through it.

When she reached the tree line she noticed a path that led into the forest along side of the stream. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans, she proceeded up the path. It led her into the most beautiful rain forests she had ever seen. Moss hung from the limbs of the trees. There were so many variety of trees here that the forest was a myriad of shades of green. She could smell the scent of pine in the air. The only sounds were those of a few birds chirping, an occasional bark of a squirrel and off in the distance the tapping of a woodpecker echoed through the forest. Above her the giant pines reached upward almost disappearing into the blue sky and a soft breeze whispered through their pine needles.

Soon, Kelly heard another sound. It was water cascading over rocks somewhere ahead of her. Taking her hands out of her pockets she walked up the path towards the almost hypnotic sound.

The path seemed to end at the sound's origin. In front of her was a waterfall that emptied into a small pool. The pool was surrounded by what appeared to be one huge boulder of granite that had been carved and polished by years of water rushing over it on it's way to some lake somewhere south of the mountains. The path actually ended at a large piece of the giant boulder which was flat across and smooth as marble. It jutted out over the pool of water creating what looked like a patio of sorts.

Kelly stepped up onto the granite "slab" and walked to its edge. She looked down into the pool of clear water and she could see trout swimming unthreatened around the pool. A fine mist sprayed up from where the waterfall met the pool, cooling her skin and the sound of the cascading water seemed to have a magically calming effect on her.

Kelly sat down on the rock and dangled her feet over the edge. She placed her hands on the rock behind her, leaning her weight on them and raised her face toward the sky, closed her eyes and allowed her sense of smell and hearing absorb everything around her. If it was possible to fall in love with a place...then this was it...and she had fallen.

Suddenly Kelly is reminded of the dream she had of the red haired girl and the man with the long dark hair making love under the waterfall and she sits up and looks at the veil of water in front of her. There, behind the waterfall she saw the ledge. The exact same ledge that was in her dream. She got to her feet and backed away almost falling off of the rock.

"What the hell?" She said allowed. She turned and ran back down the path and into the meadow. She ran all the way to the front of the house where she stopped. She turned and looked at the front of the house. It was definitely not the same as the log cabin in the vision she had just had about the horse. She looked around the meadow. However, this was definitely the same meadow. Her Irish curiosity took over and she walked up onto the deck and up to the front door. As if in some kind of trance, she reached out and tried the door nob on one of the front doors. It didn't move. She tried the other one and was surprised when it turned in her hand. She gave the door a slight push and it opened with a faint squeak of the hinges. She stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind her.

Kelly's attention was immediately drawn to the massive double sided fireplace and hearth directly in the center of the house dividing the living room and what appeared to be a combination dining room and study. The fireplace was constructed with the same kind of large river rocks as the chimney, as was the base of the two foot high hearth. The top of the hearth on the living room side was a three inch thick, six foot by three foot polished black granite slab. The mantle was a five foot by two foot polished manzanita plank.

The covered furniture sat on large area rugs over highly polished mahogany floors.

On the far wall to the left of the entry way was a built in book case that spanned from floor to ceiling and the full length of the wall from the front of the house to the rear and was filled with books.

To the right there was a small built in desk in the corner and another bookcase above it. And further along the wall to the right was the arched doorway that led to the spacious kitchen and small breakfast nook.

On the other side of the fireplace, built into the back wall of the house and directly across from the rock hearth was an antique desk that looked like something an old sea captain would have on a clipper ship from the 1800s.

In the far left corner was an iron spiral stairway that led to the one loft bedroom upstairs.

The kitchen was large. It had long granite counter-tops and an abundance of cupboards and drawers. On the back wall was a rather large double sided sink. On the wall directly across from the doorway was a very large six burner built in stove and oven with another oven overhead. Next to it was a very large double door refrigerator.

To the left was an alcove about four feet by eight feet almost completely glassed in that served as a breakfast nook.

Near the corner, between the breakfast nook and the refrigerator was a short 'hallway' with a double Dutch door at the end that led outside. In the "hallway a small door on the left led to the bathroom.

Throughout the house the walls and floors are naturally stained mahogany varnished to a high gloss shine.

Under the stairway was an arched doorway with louvered swing doors _(much like the saloon doors of the old west)_ that led to a den with a pool table, entertainment center and gaming table for playing cards.

Kelly wandered through the house running her hands across the polished mahogany and manzanita, marveling at the craftsmanship of the book cases, reading the titles of the books...and finally deciding to investigate the room upstairs. She started up the stairs and stopped halfway up and looked back down at the rooms below. As lovely as they were...they were totally unfamiliar to her. She shook her head and walked the rest of the way up the stairway.

The room upstairs turned out to be the only bedroom in the house. It was a large loft style room that over looked both main rooms downstairs and had a clear view of the "back side" of the massive fireplace. There were three windows in the room; two on the back wall on either side of the bed and one large bay window on the north wall with a built in bench for sitting and gazing at the stars. Three quarters of the west wall was a closet with mirrored sliding doors.

The most impressive things about the bedroom were the queen sized 16th century canopy bed with its four mahogany scrolled posts and canopy frame and velvet drapes tied back at each post, and the skylight _(same dimensions as the bed) _directly above the bed.

Kelly walked over to the closet and slid open one side. It was filled with a man's clothes. She closed it and went to the other door and opened it. This side was filled with a woman's clothes. She methodically filed through the hangers of jeans, bib overalls, dress pants, blouses, western style shirts and a few pantsuits. There were a only a few skirts, broomstick style, and about as many dresses, and there were at least three formal gowns. All were small sizes.

"Not much of a clothes horse are you?" Kelly asked out loud. "Or into shoes," she said noticing that the lady of the house seemed to have only the basics for shoes There were two pair of cowboy boots; one dress and one pair that seemed to have been around forever and just as beat up, two pair of athletic shoes, a pair of moccasins and squaw boots and a pair of black, white and bone colored high heel pumps and two pair of sandals

Kelly's eyes drifted to the back of the closet where she spotted an opaque garment bag. She reached into the back of the closet and took the bag out, walked over to the bed and laid it down. She unzipped the bag and pulled out the dress it held. Her eyes widened as she looked at the 16th century, antique lace gown trimmed in a brightly plaid ribbon. "Tartan," she heard herself say and wondered how she knew that. Pinned to the bodice of the gown was a swatch of dark green and blue Tartan plaid material. She held the dress up to her and looked in the mirrored closet door at herself. The dress would have fit her like it had been made for her. A chill ran up her spine, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She shook it off and laid the dress on the bed next to the garment bag. She opened the bag and saw that there was another smaller bag inside. She removed the second bag and laid it on top of the first and unzipped it.

Inside was a veil made of the same lace as the dress. Kelly removed it from the bag and held it up for inspection The veil would have covered her head and cascaded down her back and created a three foot train behind her.

"Her wedding gown," Kelly whispered. She looked at her reflection in the mirror but instead of seeing herself she saw the girl with the long red hair. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her vision. It worked, for standing in front of her was the reflection of a weary, pale and shaken Kelly McKinney She quickly turned and replaced the veil in its bag and replaced that in the larger one. As she started to lift the dress off of the bed to replace it her fingers touched the swatch of Tartan pinned to the dress's bodice. Absentmindedly, Kelly gently caressed the material She was overcome with strange images of the man with the long dark hair. His dark and expressive eyes looking at her lovingly and she could hear him calling out to her. But it wasn't her name he called. The name he called out while looking at her...seemingly through her...was the name of Caitlin.

With another shake of her head, Kelly returned the dress to the garment bag, zipped the bag shut and returned it to the closet. She felt cold, as if she were standing in a snow bank, and she shivered. That's when she saw the chest at the foot of the bed. With no conscious thought she knelt in front of it and lifted the lid. It was filled with various memorabilia. Items collected throughout the years, and as Kelly scanned the contents her eyes widened as she realized the time line to some of the items.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed. "She's an Immortal...or THEY are." She nervously started to close the lid intending to get the hell out of there when a zip lock baggie with some photographs in it caught her attention. She reached in and picked it up. She looked at the photograph on the top of the stack through the clear plastic of the baggie and her hand started to tremble. It was a picture of the girl with the long red hair dressed in the wedding gown Kelly had just put away. She looked radiantly happy. Standing next to her in a kilt made of the same Tartan as the swatch pinned to the dress was the man who had been in every dream, nightmare and "vision" Kelly had been haunted by for the past several months. The man with the long dark hair. The man who looked lovingly into her eyes and called her Caitlin.

She dropped the baggie of photographs as if it was a hot piece of metal and closed the lid of the chest. She stood up and backed away from the chest. Her legs felt heavy and the room seemed to spin around her. Although she felt cold she broke out in a sweat and she began to shake uncontrollably. Kelly found her way through clouded vision to the bed and she sat on the edge, taking deep breaths, trying to calm the wave of dizziness that had washed over her. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and covering her face with her hands.

Suddenly her mind was filled with images of the red haired girl riding a sleek black horse in the meadow; the girl battling an older man, their swords flashing in the moonlight; the girl taking the head of a dark skinned man and the Quickening that followed; the girl and the man with the long dark hair standing at an alter under a canopy saying their vows to one another; the girl, the bride and groom on the very bed she was sitting on making passionate love to one another...but that image suddenly changed. It became her that the groom was making love to and she was making love back to him.

Kelly sat up straight and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Stop!" Her head began to throb with pain and nausea gripped her. She couldn't remember ever feeling such consuming panic in her life...but then she couldn't remember anything before she had awakened in the hospital in Greece.

Kelly fell back on the bed and her hands raised to the sides of her head. Tears spilled from her eyes. She rolled onto her side and pulled one of the bed pillows to her and clung to it as though it were a life preserver. She buried her face in it and screamed again. Then completely exhausted she let go of the emotions that had been welling up inside of her and sobbed openly into the pillow. Kelly sobbed until her voice was gone and the tears dried and then she fell into a deep sleep completely exhausted both physically and emotionally drained.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter XVII**_

Duncan stopped in the town of Grisdale, Washington at the general store and went inside to buy some supplies. He and Caitlin had left the cabin and returned to Seacouver two weeks before her disappearance because they had decided to put her Seacouver house up for sale and it needed to be made ready. Four months after she disappeared and Duncan had followed a lead that took him to Germany, Methos and Amanda had gone to the cabin, removed all of the perishable food and covered the furniture. He had not been back to the cabin since returning to the States. So he knew that he would need just about everything.

With his shopping completed and the trunk and back seat of the T-Bird full of groceries and other household items, Duncan headed out of town. A few miles down the road he slowed the T-Bird and leaned forward as he looked for his turn off.

Duncan brought his car to a stop as soon as he turned onto the dirt road. He opened the car door, stepped out and walked a few feet in front of the T-Bird. He squatted down and examined the newly flattened foliage. Since this road was not a public road nor was it used by the Forestry Service as a fire road, the evidence that someone had been on the road...and recently, too...alarmed him. Just before he and Caitlin had returned to Seacouver, they had found evidence of poachers in the forest surrounding the meadow when Caitlin had come across the remains of a young wolf that had been caught in a steel trap.

He stood up and brushed the dirt off of his hands and looked down the road. A part of him hoped that he would catch a poacher daring to set traps in their forest. He'd see that they never poached ever again. He got back in his car and proceeded to ease along the five miles of road to the meadow.

Duncan stopped suddenly at the edge of the meadow and stared in disbelief. Across the stream, almost in front of the cabin was a car he had never seen before. He scanned the meadow for any signs of its owner but saw no one.

Slowly he drove across the bridge. As he pulled up behind the car he felt the buzz of another Immortal. Instinctively, his hand dropped to his Katana, but then he brought it back up. The meadow was Holy Ground and no Immortal could fight here. But as he got out of the car he grabbed his sword anyway...just in case this Immortal didn't follow the rules of the Game.

As he passed the other car he set his hand on the hood. It was cool indicating that it had been there awhile. If he hadn't felt the Immortal buzz he might have assumed it to be abandoned That's when he noticed that the front door of the cabin was not closed all the way.

Duncan stood looking at the front of the cabin in shock. Somewhere deep inside of him a small voice was telling him to get back in his car and return to Seacouver. He was tempted to listen to the voice because it had been a long time since he fought another Immortal and since his "vacation" at the bottom of a bottle of booze had depleted a good chunk of his strength, he wasn't sure how well he'd fair if this Immortal chose to fight him. But he did know that he wouldn't make it easy for them. He decided not to listen to the voice and cautiously walked toward the cabin.

Kelly sat straight up and looked around, her vision blurred from sleep. At first she wasn't sure what woke her but then it didn't seem as important as the fact that she didn't know where she was. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked around and then it all came back to her, and she realized that she had fallen asleep after an emotional breakdown and..."Oh my God," she whispered a look of horror on her face. What had woke was an Immortal buzz which meant the owner of the house must be here.

Kelly looked around the room almost in a panic. Her sword was in the car and she could see nothing with which to defend herself. The bay window didn't open nor did the smaller windows on either side of the bed so there was no escape. The only way out was down the stairs. She was trespassing and the owner had every right to defend her home. The confusion, fear and frustration of the last seven months had taken its toll on her brain. She disparately tried to come up with a plan and all she succeeded in doing was allowing an opening for panic to set in...and it almost did when she heard the sound of a car door close. But she was able to react at the first hint of an idea.

Kelly dashed down the stairs, intending to escape through the kitchen and out the back door. She made it down the stairs, across the doorway and past the fireplace but halfway across the second doorway, the front door creaked and out of the corner of her eye she saw it swing open. She knew she wasn't going to make it.

At that moment her foot caught the edge of the area rug under the dining room table and she lost her balance. She struggled to stay on her feet, which she did, however, she did stagger up against one of the dining chairs, which turned on its casters and hit the table. It turned with the force of her weight pushing it one way and the table pushing it another. It came to a stop with the front of the seat up against the back of Kelly's knees. Gravity pulled her backward another step but her knees hit the chair and she immediately and unexpectedly sat down hard in the chair.

Kelly's reflexes were slow and by the time she reacted and started to get up from the chair, there was a silhouetted person, obviously a man, standing in the doorway between the living room and dining room/study where she was.

Kelly tried one more time to get to her feet She was successful and managed to stand and step away from the table and put the chair between her and the Immortal standing about eight feet away from her.

When Duncan pushed the front door open he caught movement in the study out of the corner of his eyes and when he stepped across the threshold a shadowy figure stopped in the doorway between the living room and the dining room/study. He couldn't see more than a shadowy silhouette because most of the front and back walls of the cabin were actually large floor to ceiling windows and the way the light played throughout the two main downstairs rooms you had to be almost on top of someone to see their features. A shiver ran up his spine as he looked at the small silhouette and was reminded of his nightmare from a couple of nights before.

He began to move toward the silhouette when it tried to turn away and stumbled, falling into the dining table and ended up sitting in one of the dining chairs. By the time he reached the doorway it had gotten to its feet and put a chair between them.

At first he could only stare in surprise when he was able to see who it was. The girl in front of him was the same girl in the pictures in the newspaper and the same girl that had taken his head in his nightmare. Duncan's hands trembled as he stepped further into the study, closer to the girl who looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

His eyes looked her over from head to toe, taking in every feature. He saved her eyes until last. When he did rest his gaze on her eyes he felt a rush of dizziness wash over him as if he had stepped under a waterfall of warm water. He almost had to grab on to something to keep from falling, but as suddenly as the dizziness had appeared it disappeared. He finally found his voice and raised one hand as if surrendering.

"Who...are you and why are you in my house?" He asked. He needed to hear her voice to be sure. He took a couple more steps closer. The girl moved back pulling the chair with her and keeping it between them. She was definitely terrified.

The silhouette moved toward her and she moved back keeping the chair between them. When he stopped again he was standing in the light from the study windows and she could see who he was.

Not more than six feet in front of her stood the man in the wedding photograph upstairs and the man in all of the dreams, nightmares and "visions" she'd been having for the past seven months.

"You!" Kelly said then, "Who are you?" And she almost added, "and why are you haunting me?" but didn't.

Although she had answered his question with a question, Duncan had his answer. The frightened girl in front of him was his wife. He knew it with every fiber of his being. There was only one problem. She didn't know him. There was no real recognition in her eyes. To the girl in front of him, he was a complete stranger.

Duncan managed to shove his emotions down deep inside allowing logic and common sense to guide his actions.

"I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," he said in an even, steady yet soft voice.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**Chapter XVIII**_

"Caitlin?" Duncan said, his voice sounding foreign to him.

"Kelly. My name is Kelly McKinney," Kelly said, her eyes never leaving his. "Look. I know I'm trespassing. I wish I could explain why I'm here but I can't. I haven't stolen anything. If you just let me leave...," she said. "I'm really in no mood to fight anyone right now."

"This is Holy Ground," Duncan said. He was completely sure now that the girl in front of him was Caitlin MacLeod, his wife. He had no idea why she didn't know who he was or why she didn't seem to recognize him, but after hearing Methos' story he wasn't completely surprised.

"Holy...," Kelly said surprised. "Oh. Then may I leave? I swear I haven't stolen anything." She was slowly edging her way to the other doorway and, ultimately, the front door.

"Are you sure you want to?" Duncan asked. It was all he could do to keep rushing over to her and taking her in his arms and never letting her go. But his common sense told him that in her current frame of mind she would most likely freak out. But he'd be damned he was going to just let her walk out of his life again. Whatever had happened to her to cause her to forget who she was, who he was...they'd fix it together.

"You don't look like you feel all that well," Duncan said. He wanted so badly to ease closer to her but he decided to stay where he was because it would be easier to cut her off if she made a break for the front door. He hated the idea of having to capture and hold her against her will but he wasn't going to lose her again. "Maybe you should stay and I'll see what I have here for a headache and you can rest."

"Why would you care if I had a headache or not?" Kelly asked but not as though she were interested but because she was getting suspicious "Besides...it's not like it's going to kill me," she attempted to cover her suspicion with humor.

"I just do," Duncan said and lowered his head. He was disparately trying to think of something to say that would make her stay but his desperation clouded his thinking and he was coming up blank. He had a sick feeling that he would fail in getting her to stay and he'd never see her again. "Can't we just leave it at that?" He said more to the floor than to her.

Kelly saw the look in his eyes. She could not remember ever seeing so many emotions in the eyes of another human being before...mortal or Immortal. She also saw that with his eyes on the floor she would have a good extra 5 seconds to make her dash for the front door. Would it help? She quickly scanned the distance between her and the door, took into consideration the fact that her own reflexes were slow and after a couple of seconds decided to go for it. Her muscles tensed as she got ready and she began a mental count down from three, but as she started to make her move, a wave of dizziness and a severe pain over her right temple came crashing down around and through her and she reached for the nearby staircase to keep from dropping to the floor. She grabbed the side of her head and inadvertently let out a small moan.

Duncan saw her getting ready to run. He was in the process of straightening up and make his own dash for the front door when he saw her come to a sudden stop, grabbed the staircase and the side of her head and bend over moaning in pain. Without any thought to the fact that to Kelly he was a stranger he went to her side. By the time he reached her, her legs had given out on her and she was falling to the floor. He caught her just before she hit the floor and scooped her into his arms. He looked into her face as he straightened up and he was alarmed when he saw that she was unconscious...breathing...but definitely unconscious. He carried her upstairs and gently lay her on the bed and covered her with the afghan draped over the trunk at the foot of the bed., He moved away from the bed and took his cell phone out of his pocket and quickly dialed a number and waited while it rang.

"Methos...it's MacLeod. I...No listen...I need you. I'm up at the cabin," Duncan said. He was talking in almost a whisper. "It's Caitlin...she's here...yes...hurry." He hung up and moved back over to the side of the bed. The pale girl laying on the bed had broken out in a sweat and Duncan reached down and gently touched her cheek which seemed to be on fire so he went downstairs and got a hand towel out of the kitchen and ran cold tap water on it, wrung it out and took it back upstairs. He sat down on the edge of the bed and began to gently wipe her face with the damp towel. He was totally unaware that he was whispering, "It's OK, baby. You're safe now. No one will ever hurt you again. Shhhhh...it's OK "

Robert Woods and Mr. Conroy landed in Seattle, got their rental car and drove directly to the fair grounds. Woods new they were early and that not many of the rodeoers would be there but he wanted to familiarize himself with the area and layout. After wandering around and pretending to be interested in watching the workers set up tents and exhibits areas, it was lunch time so Woods and Conroy drove back into the city and found a restaurant on the waterfront and had lunch. From there they checked into their hotel. Conroy went to his room to take a nap and Woods decided to do some sight seeing starting with the famous Space Needle.

Duncan's call had taken Methos completely by surprise. He packed up his medical bag and went to Joe's Bar to get Joe. Joe took the news like a kid getting his first bike at Christmas.

"You're sure that's what he said?" Joe questioned Methos. "You couldn't have misunderstood him?"

Methos snorted and answered, "Joe...I'm old...yes. But I'm not deaf."

"I can't believe it," Joe said not even attempting to hide his excitement "Our girl is back. She's really back."

"Now hold on a minute, Joe," Methos said holding up his hands. "We both know she has some memory problems. If this is Caitlin she may not be "back" yet. She may never get her memory back. We don't know what whoever it was did to her. It could be irreversible."

"I know. But at least we know she's still alive," Joe said. "You really are a glass is half empty kind of guy, aren't you?" Joe said half teasing. To which Methos just snorted.

Methos stood up from his chair at the table they were sitting at and took his coat that had been draped across the back of the chair next to him and put it on. As he did he looked at Joe and said, "well? You just going to sit there? Or are you coming?" Then he headed for the door of the bar.

Joe got to his feet and told Mike, his bartender to mind the store and he followed Methos to his Landrover.

Before Kelly opened her eyes she became aware of the cool damp cloth on her forehead. She lay perfectly still while she reviewed in her mind the reason she was laying on the bed. Unfortunately that didn't help her. It only frustrated her more. She tried to remember the last time she felt really comfortable in her own skin and she couldn't come up with one memory. In fact the harder she thought about it the worse she made it. Then she finally realized that she had no clear memory past he experience in Greece. More specifically, past the time she woke up in the hospital in Greece after a plane crash that she couldn't really remember. The worst part was that it seemed as though she was losing more and more of herself everyday. Things she could remember yesterday were impossible to recall today. And then there were the strange visions, dreams and nightmares about someone other than herself.

Kelly's head began to throb again. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and it felt like it was going to beat right out of her. Then she felt the cool cloth move off of her forehead. Someone was wiping her face with it. Their touch was so very gentle and the cool cloth felt good on her hot skin. She instinctively raised her hand to her throbbing head. Each throb sent sharp rods through her skull from front to back. She moaned softly.

"Shhhhh," she heard through the throbbing pain in her head. "It'll be alright. You're safe now. No one will ever hurt you again. I promise," the soft and soothing voice said and then she felt a hand on her cheek. It was a arm hand, a gentle hand. And again the voice was saying, "You're going to be alright, Caitlin. You're safe. It's OK." And then the voice was muffled as though it was further away, but what the voice said was perfectly clear to Kelly. "They're going to pay for what they've done to you, my love. Everyone of them will pay," and this time there was nothing soothing in the voice. It was filled with pure hatred and contempt.

What who had done? Done what? She wanted to scream, "Stop it, please. Someone stop this." But she not only did not have the strength her head hurt too much to even move and she was afraid that if she started screaming she just might not stop.

Duncan had gotten up to go dampen the towel again. He was at the top of the stairs when he heard a soft whimper come from behind him. He turned and went back up to the side of the bed Caitlin...Kelly...his wife was on and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. Her skin as moist with perspiration and she was so pale she nearly blended in with the bed sheets. He wasn't sure that she had actually fainted downstairs because she seemed as if she were more in a deep sleep than unconscious. He wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not, he couldn't tell by her soft moans, but the furrow in her brow, the way she squinted her eyelids shut and the tiny whimpers told him she was definitely in pain. He had become sure of it when, just before he had gotten up to re moisten the towel, she had raised her hand to her head without opening her eyes. Now tears emerged from the outside corners of her eyelids and ran down her temples to he hair over her ears. He reached up to the side of her face with the top of his index finger and ever so gently caught a tear before it dripped into her ear. He wanted more than ever to take her into his arms and hold her until whatever pain she was feeling disappeared. But he knew that wouldn't be the right thing to do just yet. She was obviously confused and scared and that would only make it worse.

"Shhhhh," he said softly instead. He did place his hand over the one of hers that lay on her stomach. "I'm here, sweetheart. It's OK." He knew that Kelly may not understand what he was saying but Caitlin would and he was positive that his Caitlin was in there somewhere buried under all that confusion and fear. As he comforted her he told himself, "I will get every last one of them and I will make them pay. And pay dearly."

**_TO BE CONTINUED_**


	19. Chapter 19

_**Chapter XIX**_

Methos had only been to the cabin in the meadow three times. Once before Caitlin and Duncan's wedding and for the wedding when he gave Caitlin away and then when he and Amanda had come up to close the place down after Duncan had taken off to find her after her disappearance. When he first pulled his car out of Joe's parking lot he hoped that he could remember how to get there. But when he pulled off of the freeway and headed down the old highway it was if he were on auto pilot. Before he knew it they were coming into the town of Grisdale.

They made one stop at the local market where Methos purchased a twelve pack of beer and they were off again He didn't even have any trouble finding the obscure dirt road they had to turn on to get to the meadow.

Joe had never been up to the cabin before. He hadn't been able to attend Caitlin and Mac's wedding because Caitlin's Watcher and long time friend (of Caitlin's) and Joe's God daughter had been beaten nearly to death by Michelle Webster who Joe had assigned to her and she had to undergo reconstructive surgery on the same day as the wedding. But he had one of his guys there with a video phone. He had heard all about this place. First from Caitlin on night when she and her Watcher/friend, Peggy, came into his bar and got drunk and again later from Duncan after he had befriended him. Now as he looked at the scenery they were passing he could see why Duncan and Caitlin had loved it so much.

Joe had liked Caitlin from the first time he met her when Peggy had brought her from her ranch in Arizona to Seacouver and into his bar. She and Peggy had become good friends. She was probably one of the spunkiest women (next to Amanda) he had ever met. No matter how grave the situation Caitlin always found a way to see a positive side to it. He wondered how she'd look at the current situation were she not the victim.

Kelly opened her eyes and looked up at Duncan. Though her vision was blurred she could see the way he was looking at her clearly. "Why?" she asked in an unrecognizably small voice. "What's happening to me?" Her desperation was unmistakable.

Duncan reached up to gently wipe her face with the cool towel. He shook his head as he said, "I don't know why, baby. But I promise everything will be alright."

Kelly grabbed his wrist to stop him as she moved sideways trying to get away from him. "I'm not your baby," she said adamantly, although her voice sounded weak even to her.

"Caitlin...," Duncan started to say.

"And I'm not Caitlin," Kelly interrupted "I'm Kelly. Kelly McKinney."

Duncan was shaking his head no. "You're wrong," he said trying to remain calm. "You're my wife. Caitlin MacLeod."

She put her hands over her ears and rolled her head from side to side. "I'm not your wife. Why won't you believe me? I'm Kelly McKinney. I'm Brian McKinney's wife. Not yours."

Duncan sat up and looked at her in surprise. Her words stung as if he had touched an electrical cord that had a bare spot and was still plugged in. Through it all, the possibility that she might mot be his anymore had never occurred to him. He didn't know what to say and even if he had, he would have been afraid to say it for fear his own emotions would show and he needed to remain calm in order to get through...get her through this.

Kelly could see the hurt in his eyes and for an instant felt sorry for him. Something must have happened to his wife and now he was seeing her in every woman he met. At least that was the only explanation she could come up with at the moment. She tried to sit up, but when she raised her head off of the pillow a wave of dizziness washed over her again and she sank back against the pillows, shivering.

Duncan watched her face become even more pale than before and he could see her shiver as she fell back onto the pillows. He pulled the afghan up over her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Shhhhh," he said. "Just rest. It'll be alright."

"No," Kelly said in a weak attempt to move away from him. "I have to go. I have to get out of here," she said.

"Caitlin...I mean, Kelly," Duncan corrected himself. If calling her Kelly would keep her calm until Methos got there he'd make himself call her that all day. Anything to prevent her from leaving...or worse, he thought as he remembered his nightmare. "You're in no shape to leave right now," he said, hoping he sounded calm. "You're safe here. This is Holy Ground. No one can hurt you. You can rest."

Kelly allowed him to pull the afghan up to her chin and she looked into his eyes. Suddenly, for reasons she could not explain she believed the man who, except for the dreams, nightmares and visions she'd been having with him in them, was a stranger to her. But she did feel safe. Maybe it was knowing she was on Holy Ground that gave her that feeling. Then that nagging little voice in the back of her head said, "but what if he's lying? What if this isn't Holy Ground?" Kelly put a hand to her forehead as it throbbed. To drown out the voice she thought to herself, "Since when do Immortals get headaches?" But one thought kept running through her mind almost in rhythm with her heart beat and that thought was a phrase which was, "you're my wife. You're Caitlin MacLeod." She closed her eyes and took an extremely unsteady breath in as she tried to calm the throbbing pain in her head.

Duncan gently rubbed her shoulder. He could see that she was in physical pain. He had no idea what could be causing it, but he ached for her. When she hurt, he hurt and vice versa. It had been that way since the first day he had met her over a century ago.

"Just rest," he said softly avoiding the use of either name. "You are safe here."

Robert Woods stood on the balcony of his hotel room in Seattle and gazed out at the multicolored sunset as the golden ball of fire began to disappear, seemingly, into the Pacific Ocean. But as spectacular as the sunset was, Woods was oblivious because his attention was on the conversation he was having on his cell phone.

"So give me some idea," he said, "paint me a picture of what to expect at this point."

The voice on the other end of the conversation belonged to Dr. Benjamin Trask, the Organization's top scientist and researcher. He was the head of the Project and had worked closely with Kelly and knew her better than anyone else.

"There's really no way of knowing for sure," Trask said. He knew it wasn't the answer Woods was looking for but he wanted everyone to understand that there were no documented cases of the effects of the Project "wearing off" since Kelly had been the Project's first success story. Trask himself had performed all experiments on the lab rats and then on the monkeys and he had overseen the first three attempts on Immortal subjects. When those failed and the three Immortals ended up as vegetables having to be terminated he felt the failure more than the rest of the Organization. When Kelly became a success story he had beamed with pride long before the Organization acknowledged his success and rewarded him. But it all boiled down to one thing. It either took or it didn't.

The only thing they had to go by was the reaction of the laboratory animals. Only one of the rats had survived and showed signs of success but that outcome was short lived when the rat developed an anyrism in its brain which ended up rupturing and killing the rat. It was unclear what exactly had caused the anyrism. But since the two successful trials on the monkeys did not result in the same thing as the rat, it didn't seem probable that the Project had anything to do with the animals demise.

"You keep telling me that," Woods said. "Don't you get it doctor? That's not good enough. I need to know what to expect. Speculate if you have to. I know you have some ideas about it."

"Oh, Robert," Trask sighed. He had known Robert Woods since he first came to the Organization as basically an errand boy. Robert would have made a fine researcher. He had the intelligence and logic needed to succeed in research but his main interest had leaned more toward the more hands on departments of the Organization. He was a boy then and now he was a man, THE man as it were, CEO of the Pacific Division of the Organization. Even so Trask maintained his right to call the boss by his first name. "There may be some pain involved," he continued. "If it's an anyrism like the rat, she'll be having severe headaches. Problem would be that being an Immortal, if it kills her, she'll revive and it'll form all over again. Now remember, Robert. This is all in theory. It's kind of hard to run an accurate simulation on a rat when there are no Immortal rats to test."

Woods nodded. "I understand that doctor. What else? What about her memory?" He asked getting into the specific area he was most interested in.

Trask knew why Woods was interested and concerned about the subject. "Speculation?" He confirmed.

"Speculation," Woods said.

"Oh God Robert," Trask sighed. "I...we really don't know. There could be short term memory loss, complete amnesia...there's no way of knowing for sure."

"What about the other memories?" Woods asked.

"Those are gone, Robert," Trask answered with confidence "That part of the treatment...or should I say...pre-treatment was a complete success."

"Are you sure?" Woods asked.

"Positive, Robert," Trask smiled proudly. "We started with a completely clean slate."

Robert Woods let out a sigh of relief. "Then she can be treated again. She's still useful"

"You're wrong son," Trask said.

"But you said...," Woods began.

"I said if she developed the same type of anyrism the rat did, she will suffer from it every time and we...you...would go through what we're going through now, again and again." Trask didn't know if Woods had gotten too personally involved with this subject clouding his logic or not.

"OK doctor," Woods said, disappointment in his voice. "I gotcha. It wouldn't be in the best interest of the Organization."

"I'm sorry, Robert," Trask sighed. He, too, had invested much of himself into this subject. This failure fell as much on him as to Robert Woods.

"Thanks, doc," Woods sighed. "Talk to you later," and he hung up. As he stared at the last remnants of the sun he said, "what a waste," then turned and went inside his room.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	20. Chapter 20

_**Chapter XX**_

"There it is," Joe said pointing out the windshield, "on the right just ahead...right there."

"All right, Joe," Methos groaned. "I see it." He hated it when Dawson back seat drove.

The sun had finally disappeared behind them and in the dusk it was getting hard to see the obscure dirt road. So both Joe and Methos had been straining their eyes hoping not to miss it.

Methos turned where Joe had pointed. At first he thought Joe was hallucinating because even as he was turning he didn't see anything that looked like a road. But then he saw the flattened vegetation where a vehicle had just recently traveled.

The dusky light of just before nightfall was gone and Methos had to rely on the headlights of his Landrover to see the winding tire tracks in front of him. At one point he had to jam on his breaks for a deer that darted out in front of them causing the SUV to slide on the damp ground. The whole time Methos was working his brain, preparing himself for his task ahead. "It seems no matter how hard I try," he thought to himself, "to forget my past, I always get called to play doctor to an Immortal."

Finally the forest opened up to the moonlit meadow and Methos brought the Landrover to a stop. He could barely see the tire tracks that flattened the tall grass and wildflowers as they led across the meadow to the wooden bridge and then to where Mac's T-Bird and other car were parked. As he eased along the tracks he glanced at Duncan and Caitlin's cabin, now lit up from the lights inside and he remembered coming up here with Amanda to clean out the perishables and cover the furniture and the somberness they felt as they performed the task at hand.

As he pulled up next to the T-Bird and turned off his headlights and engine he felt the buzz of more than one Immortal.

"Joe," he said in almost a whisper. "Take the coil thingy out of that car." He pointed to the car parked in front of Mac's.

Joe nodded and opened the driver's door of the rental car and pulled the hood release. He opened the hood and reached in grabbing the coil and yanking it out. Then he closed the hood quietly and joined Methos at the front door.

Duncan was sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands when he felt a strong and intense Immortal buzz. Only one Immortal he knew of generated that much energy and that was Methos.

Before he got up from the bed he turned and looked at the sleeping girl. When he was sure she was still sleeping he got up and headed down the stairs. By the time he was halfway down he could see the headlights of an approaching vehicle and heard the clackety clack as it drove across the wooden bridge.

He made his way to the front door and opened the one side to stare at a sullen Joe and Methos.

"Hope you don't mind that I came along, Mac," Joe said from his position behind Methos.

Duncan shook his head as he stepped aside so the two men could enter the house. "Come on in," he said quietly. Then he spoke directly to Methos who had stepped to the center of the living room and was looking around. "She's upstairs sleeping. She seems to be in pain. Her head, I think. And she fainted earlier."

"What does she remember?" Methos got right to the point.

Duncan looked sadly at Joe then back at Methos and shook his head. "Nothing, it seems. She thinks...she believes her name is Kelly McKinney."

"That's the name they called her in the paper," Joe observed.

"And she believes she's married to a Brian McKinney," Duncan added.

"I'll check it out," Joe said and looked around for a place to set up his laptop.

Duncan led him into the study and pulled a sheet off of the large desk on the back wall.

"Is this...?" Joe asked indicating the desk.

Duncan nodded absentmindedly, "yeah. It was Connor's when he commanded the Rosemary in 1853."

"And you recovered it from the bottom of the ocean," Joe mused. "It's gorgeous."

He set up his laptop and powered it up, then took a seat in the big leather desk chair.

"Has she said anything else?" Methos asked as he looked up at the loft bedroom above.

"Just that she doesn't know what drew her here," Duncan said. "But something did. And that she doesn't understand what's happening to her."

"Why?" Methos turned back to look at Mac. "What's happening to her?"

Duncan shrugged. "I don't know. That's when she got dizzy and fainted When she woke up she appeared to be having a severe headache and she's been unable to get up or move around since without making it worse."

"How long has she been asleep?" Methos quizzed.

"About an hour this time. She woke up once an hour ago and tried to leave but couldn't get up," Duncan answered.

"Well, we took care of that," Methos smirked.

"We?" Joe asked. "Coil thingy?" He teased. "Yeah. WE took care of it," and he extracted the "coil thingy" from his jacket pocket and set it on the desk.

Methos shrugged. "Well it was my idea."

"OK, guys?" Joe said staring at the screen of his laptop. "Come look at this."

Both Duncan and Methos turned and stood behind Joe bending down to see the display on the screen.

"Brian McKinney has quite a history," Joe was saying. "I'm surprised you never ran into him, Mac. It seems he was the same places you were on several occasions"

"I never had the pleasure," Duncan mumbled.

"Then it appears he dropped out of sight about fifteen years ago," Joe continued.

"In other words," Duncan said. "His Watcher lost him."

"Not in other words," Methos said straightening up. "Those are the words.'

Kelly had managed to slip over to the railing that overlooked the study. She over heard Joe's announcement about Brian McKenny and sat back, stunned.

"No," she whispered. "How is that possible? Brian wasn't an Immortal. He was just a simple researcher." Then another thought occurred to her. If he was an Immortal, how could he have died in when the plane crashed in Greece? And if he was an Immortal, how could he have had two children by his previous marriage? Her head began to throb harder. So many questions and the harder she thought about them and tried to make sense of them the worse her head hurt. And to make matters worse, she could not seem to remember anything beyond waking up in a Greek hospital. Nothing. It was as if it were a complete blank. The only thing left was a knowledge of facts from her past...facts but no mental images. It was as if she had read them in a book that provided no pictures.

Methos laid a hand on Joe's shoulder as he asked, "Is there anything on a Kelly McKinney?"

Joe typed the name into the Watcher Database and waited. "Not a thing," he finally answered.

"Of course there isn't," Mac said. "There is no such person."

"Mac," Methos said raising up to look at his friend, "for whatever reason, she thinks she's that person. To argue that fact with her will only succeed in confusing her and scaring her which will cause her to put up a wall that we will never be able to penetrate. We won't get anywhere. We have to gain her trust...make her believe she is safe here and that we are here to help her...not hurt her. Then we have to get her to tell us about herself...the self she believes she is. If she has been "programed" with a past we need to know. Then, hopefully, we will be able to find the holes and that's how we get in and hopefully, find what's left of Caitlin. " Methos put his hands on Mac's shoulders. "Mac, I want you to prepare yourself for the possibility that there may not be anything left of the Caitlin we knew. I have no idea what was done to her to create the amnesia or how they "programed" her."

"Brain washed her you mean," Duncan mumbled.

"It could be your basic brain washing, yes," Methos nodded. "But there are other ways to accomplish what whoever these bastards are have done. And some of those methods result in permanent amnesia that can't be reversed."

Joe turned the desk chair around and looked up at Methos and Duncan. "Like what?"

He asked.

"Drugs, surgery," Methos answered. "Trauma." He hated bringing up the last one for fear it would freak Mac out. But he needed to know what they were up against. He was actually surprised that MacLeod remained calm.

"So...what...?" Duncan said almost whispering. "We just play along?"

Methos nodded. "Until we know that she trusts us enough to talk to us...to tell us about herself."

"Methos," Joe said "Have you ever done anything like this before?"

Methos looked first at Joe then at Duncan then back to Joe again. "Honestly?"

Both Duncan and Joe nodded and Joe said, "honestly."

Methos shook his head. "No. I haven't." He quickly looked at Mac and added, "remember...you called me."

Duncan nodded. "I know."

"But you do know something about it, obviously,' Joe said.

"I've read about it," Methos said. "And I have witnessed an attempt to reverse the effects of brain washing once during World War II. It was a tactic the Japanese used sometimes in their POW camps."

Kelly literally crawled back to the bed. As she eased back on the pillows and held her head with both hands she let a moan escape her lips and she closed her eyes.

Duncan heard Kelly's moan and glanced at Methos before heading upstairs to check on her.

Methos took a deep breath and followed McLeod up the rot iron spiral staircase. When he arrived at the top he stood and looked at the pale girl on the bed. Except for the hair, there was no mistake that the small, pale girl was Caitlin MacLeod.

Duncan sat on the edge of the bed and placed the cool damp towel on Caitlin's head. Kelly opened her eyes and looked up at Duncan.

"Why does my head hurt so bad?" She asked.

"I don't know," Duncan said. He could not hide the concern in his eyes.

Kelly noticed the figure standing near the stairs. Because of the lights from downstairs she could only see his silhouette Instinctively she shrunk back against the pillows. Duncan placed his hand on her shoulder to reassure her.

"It's OK," he said and motioned Methos to come closer. "He's a friend."

When Methos stepped out of the shadows, Kelly recognized him from the practice run. "You?" She said and Methos nodded with a smile.

"Hello again," Methos said. He stepped up to the bed. Duncan got up and Methos took his place. Because of the situation and not knowing if they were going to be able to help her, Methos decided to introduce himself before Duncan could make the introduction. "I'm Adam. Adam Pierson. I'm a doctor friend of Duncan's."

Kelly looked from Methos to Duncan questioningly. "Doctor?" She asked.

"I thought maybe he could help," Duncan smiled as he walked around to the other side of the bed and sat on it's edge.

Methos smiled down at his patient and asked, "is that OK?"

"I guess," Kelly said weakly. Anything to stop the throbbing pain in her head.

"This pain you're having," Methos said as he took her pulse. "Can you describe it?"

"It's like someone has driven a metal spike in the side of my head," Kelly answered and pointed to the side of her head where the pain seemed to originate from.

"Have you ever had it before?" Methos asked as he dug his blood pressure cuff out of his black doctor's bag.

"No," Kelly said. "I didn't think Immortals got headaches."

"When did it start?" Methos asked as he wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm.

"This afternoon," Kelly said.

"What were you doing when it started?"

Kelly glanced sheepishly at Duncan. To answer honestly would mean admitting she had been snooping through his closet so she decided to be vague. "I was...," she started, "trying to remember something."

Methos stopped and looked at her and he raised an eyebrow. "Trying to remember something?" He repeated.

"Yes," Kelly said.

"So...," Methos chose his words carefully. "Were you thinking hard about it?"

Kelly thought about the question then answered, "yes."

"And did you remember what ever it was?"

"No," Kelly answered sadly.

Methos glanced at Duncan as he proceeded to take her blood pressure. He had to take it twice to make sure he had gotten the correct reading.

"Have you been having problems remembering things lately?" Methos asked innocently.

Kelly glanced at Duncan suspiciously, then looked back at the doctor. "Why do you ask?" she asked.

Methos didn't hesitate as he answered her while putting the blood pressure cuff back in his black bag. But he answered her question with a question. "Have you ever been told that you have high blood pressure?"

Kelly blinked a little surprised at his question. She thought back trying to remember if she had, but drew a blank. "I don't know," she answered. "I...I can't remember."

"You can't remember if any one's ever told you that?" Methos asked for clarification.

"I can't remember anything," Kelly answered and her voice was edged with panic.

Methos looked at her concerned. "What's the furthest back you can remember?" He asked and he flashed a pen light into both of her eyes. He didn't like the sluggish reaction of her left pupil to the light.

"Ummm...seven months ago," Kelly answered.

Methos looked into her eyes. "You can't remember anything before seven months ago?" He asked.

"Just flashes," she answered. "But...," she started to tell him about the confusing visions but decided not to.

Methos heard her "but" and decided to ignore it. Instead he asked, "did the pain in your head start about the same time you started forgetting things?"

Kelly thought back and realized that it had and nodded.

"OK," Methos said. He held his index finger up in front of her face. "Follow my finger without moving your head," he instructed. He moved his finger from side to side, then up and down. As he did he asked, "have you noticed any numbness or tingling in your arms, hands or feet?"

Kelly followed his finger (although she was actually seeing two of them). As she did she thought about his question. When he finished having her follow his finger she answered that she hadn't.

"Do you know what day this is?" Methos asked.

Kelly had to think hard to answer. Then she said tentatively, "Monday?"

Methos smiled reassuringly and nodded. "Do you know what year it is?" He asked.

"2005," Kelly answered.

"Do you know who the president of the United States is?"

Kelly had to think a couple of minutes then she said weakly, "Bush."

Methos smiled his best encouraging smile and nodded. He thought about asking her which one but decided against it. Instead he asked, "do you know where you are?"

Kelly looked up into the doctor's eyes. She saw no hint of malice, only concern and encouragement. Then she switched her gaze to the man sitting on the other side of the bed. In his eyes she saw a myriad of emotions and they all seemed to tug at her heart for some reason she could not explain. But foremost, Kelly saw love, hope, fear and sadness when she looked at Duncan.

Kelly returned her gaze to Methos and answered humbly, "I'm in his house." She glanced at Duncan and then back to Methos indicating that it was Duncan's house.

Methos nodded and glanced at Duncan to see if he had caught the lack of possessive inference in her answer and he could see the instant pain in his friend's eyes which told him he had. The he returned his attention to his patient and prepared himself to ask the last question required to determine a patient's orientation, and, int this case, the most important question of all.

Duncan's stomach was tied up in knots. He could feel his muscles quivering and he realized he had tensed up. He forced himself to relax.

"Do you know who you are?" Methos asked and watched his patient's face carefully.

Kelly looked at Methos and tried to think of something clever to say but her head was throbbing so badly she gave up the attempt.

"I guess it depends who you ask," she said and glanced at Duncan.

Methos smiled and said, "I'm asking you."

Kelly looked up at him and said, "Kelly. Kelly McKenny."

Methos forced himself to hide his disappointment. He glanced at Mac who wasn't hiding his own disappointment.

"You don't sound as if you're too sure," Methos observed.

"I was this morning," Kelly said.

"And you're not now?" Methos asked.

"My host seems to think I'm someone else," Kelly said and she glanced at Duncan.

"And who does he thing you are?" Methos asked. He wanted her to say the name out loud Sometimes when a person heard themselves say something that they had forgotten it made it more real to them.

"He says I'm his wife," Kelly said in almost a whisper.

"Does his wife have a name?" Methos asked. He felt like he was trying to pry open a locked and rusted door. Finally she answered.

"Caitlin," Kelly said simply and her voice was small and unsure.

TO BE CONTINUED


	21. Chapter 21

_**Chapter XXI**_

Methos placed his hand over the hand Kelly had laying on her abdomen "Why don't you try and get some rest?" He said in his best bedside manner voice.

"Doctor?" Kelly asked as Methos stood up.

"Yes?" Methos stopped and looked at her.

"Why does my head hurt so bad?" She asked and a tear ran down her cheek.

Methos felt a tug at his heart. All he could say was, "I'm not sure." With that he turned and headed downstairs. He walked out the front door and stood on the porch staring up at the stars. For the first time in centuries tears ran down Methos' cheeks.

Duncan started to get up from the bed to leave her alone so she could get some sleep, but Kelly reached out and put her hand on his arm to stop him. Surprised he looked down at her.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't go. Stay. I...," she hesitated, "don't want to be alone."

Duncan felt a lump growing in his throat. He couldn't remember ever seeing Caitlin look so frail, so vulnerable in the century he had known her. He sat back down on the bed.

"Tell me about her,' Kelly whispered and started to close her eyes.

"Who?" Duncan asked a little taken aback by her request.

"Your wife," Kelly said sleepily. "Caitlin."

Duncan wasn't sure how that made him feel. He stared at her dumbfounded for a couple of moments then he took her hand off of his arm and laid it across her other one and pulled the afghan up under her chin. He scooted up further on the bed and braced himself on one arm and closed his eyes. When he started speaking he spoke in a soft gentle voice.

"She's mostly an Irish imp...full of mischief, practical jokes...something that never failed to make you laugh no matter how solemn the situation or how depressed you may feel," the memory of her as he talked made him smile and brought tears to his eyes as well. "But that's just one side of the person she is. People could always count on Caitlin. She was always the first to volunteer to help someone, no matter how big the problem might be or how dangerous. If she told you she'd be there at a certain time or have something done by a certain day, it was...she was.

"She was honest to a fault. Never ask her something you may not want to hear the answer to because she'd tell you," Duncan paused thinking about the woman he was describing. Then he began again.

"She may have looked like a ditsy re head, even acted like one from time to time to throw people off. But she was very much the opposite. She always tried to learn new things. I haven't met too many Immortals that truly utilized their extra years of life as a chance to learn something. She loved it when someone or something challenged her brain. She hated stagnation of any sort. She was a great person to just talk to and she listened," Duncan stopped and looked at the girl on the bed.

Kelly opened her eyes and looked at hi. The love he was feeling for the woman he was talking about was evident. "Go on," she whispered. "Tell me more."

Duncan smiled at her. "I thought you were asleep,' he said. He took a deep breath and began again.

"Caitlin has such a lust for life," he said. "She came into my life at a time when I couldn't see anything good. My world had become a very dark place." He felt tears burning behind his closed eyelids. "I had lost so many people I loved...had seen so much pain and suffering...had caused so much pain and suffering. And there she was." He wiped the tears from his eyes. He didn't realize she was still watching him.

Kelly watched him wipe away his tears and felt a strange tug at her heart. She quickly closed her eyes so he wouldn't know she had seen him.

Duncan continued on. "She had so much love inside. She opened up a whole new world for me. She taught me what love was and she taught me to look at life and the world we as Immortals live in in a more positive way. I guess...in a way she saved my life." Duncan stopped and looked at the girl he was positive was his wife. Her breathing had slowed and her face had relaxed. He waited silently for a few minutes. When she didn't open her eyes to see why he had stopped talking he decided that she had finally fallen asleep. He sat watching her for several more minutes. As he was about to get up, Kelly turned over and moaned one single word in her sleep. That word was "Duncan."

Robert Woods and Mr. Conroy spent the first few days in Seattle sight seeing. On the day before the King County Fair's rodeo was to start they spent the better part in a meeting with the extraction team. The team consisted of an ex-CIA agent, a physician and a "cleaner". Woods hoped the last member of the team wasn't going to be needed but he was prepared to give the order should worse come to worse. In their meeting their strategy was discussed and eventually laid out. Their goal was simple.

"Remember," Woods said and looked around the suite at the faces of each person in the room. "Our only objective is to apprehend Mrs. McKinney and get her off the streets. Preservation preferred, however, should that not become an option then we eliminate the problem. Agreed?" Everyone muttered their agreement.

On the first day of the rodeo, Robert Woods and Mr. Conroy bought their tickets into the fairgrounds and split up as soon as they walked through the gates. Mr. Conroy headed for the grandstands of the rodeo arena and Woods strolled casually to the rodeo staging area.

Woods approached the long table near the rider's gate. There were three people sitting at the table and several cowboys were milling around.

"Excuse me," he said to the older lady sitting in the middle of the three people at the table. "I wonder if you could help me. My sister told me to meet her here before the rodeo. She's in it. But O don't see her. Has she drawn her number yet?"

The older lady smiled politely and reached for a clipboard. "What's your sister's name?" She asked.

"Kelly McKinney. She's your queen," Woods said proudly.

The lady's face brightened as she said, "Oh Kelly. Yes. Sweet girl. She's very popular around here." She checked the clipboard then turned, puzzled to the older gentleman on her left and asked, "Ted, has Kelly checked in yet?"

"Haven't seen her," the man answered.

"That's strange," the lady said. "She's usually early. Have you seen Kevin or Toni?"

"Kevin's right over there," the man said and pointed to a cowboy standing a few yards away. "Hey Kevin," he hollered. "Come 'ere." The cowboy the man had hollered to came over to the table.

"What's up, Ted?" He asked the man behind the table.

The lady spoke up. "Have you seen Kelly? She hasn't checked in yet," She said.

"Really?" Kevin said looking rather surprised. "No. No I haven't seen her since before we left Seacouver."

"You mean she didn't ride in with you and Toni?" Ted asked.

"No," Kevin shook his head. "She was going to rent a car and leave early so she could do a little sight seeing and take some R & R. I took her to the car rental place and dropped her. So she basically left three days before the rest of us." everyone looked at Woods who was staring at Kevin.

"Excuse me," Woods spoke up. "Do you remember which car rental agency she used?"

"Kevin...this is Kelly's brother. She told him to meet her here," the older lady explained to Kevin.

"Yeah. Sure. It was Budget," Kevin answered shaking Woods' hand.

Robert Woods turned around and politely smiled at the older lady and man and thanked them, thanked Kevin and strode off. Once out of sight of the staging area Woods hurried into the grandstands, located Conroy and informed him of the development and the two men hurried out of the fairgrounds and to their car. In the car Woods got on his cell phone and called the extraction team to tell them to stand down, their target had disappeared again. Woods and Conroy headed for Seacouver.

On the day before the rodeo was supposed to start, in a meadow and a house she didn't know, Kelly died when a massive anyrism _(a bubble that forms on the wall of an artery)_ ruptures in her brain. She died after three days of non-stop pain throbbing in her head. She died confused about who she was and who she had been. She died among people who loved her, even though she had no idea who they were. She died in Duncan's arms.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	22. Chapter 22

_**Chapter XXII**_

Even though he knew she would revive, Duncan could not stop the tears that ran down his cheeks as he held her lifeless body in his arms. Even though her death meant she was free of the pain she had suffered since fainting downstairs, and she was finally at peace from the confusion her mind was in, he felt the loss as if it were permanent.

Methos had prepared Duncan for whatever was going to happen as best he could and he had tried to explain it to his patient and prepare her as well but he wasn't quite sure she understood since by that time her pain was constant and her comprehension diminished It was Duncan he was worried the most about because he could see that his friend was holding on by a thread.

Although there were times when Kelly seemed open to the possibility that she could be the woman they all thought she was, most of her lucidity was spent adamantly denying it which dashed any hope Duncan had that his Caitlin was still locked away inside this woman who called herself Kelly. Then when her pain became unbearable and she could only lie whimpering on his bed, he felt powerless to help her and could only sit there and watch her suffer until she died. But it was what happened at the end that gave Methos hope.

Kelly's last coherent thought came as she looked through her own blurred vision into the eyes of the man who claimed to be her husband. She had come to know a lot about him and his love for his wife who had mysteriously disappeared three years ago and who he had been searching for ever since. He had never given up hope of finding her and Kelly had found herself envying the woman these people seemed to be convinced she was. To be loved so intensely must have been wonderful and when she thought about it she found herself wishing she was that woman. But she never believed it to be true. Even though her memories of her own life had begun to vanish she could not entertain the idea that she was Caitlin MacLeod. But as she looked into Duncan's eyes for the last time and could see even through her blurred vision the love he was feeling she wished more than ever that it was true. Then all she was aware of was blinding pain.

She was completely unaware that as the anyrism ruptured and bled into her brain and as her life began to slip away, she had opened her eyes one last time and looked at Duncan and whispered, "I love you, Duncan," which is when Duncan had taken her into his arms and held her as her heart stopped beating.

It seemed like an eternity to Duncan as he waited for his wife to revive. He kept glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Each moment that she was dead seemed to chip away at his strength little by little. He cradled her in his arms and rocked back and forth. He smoothed her hair away from her face and he begged her to come back to him in whispers. He didn't bother to hide his tears and he couldn't fight to keep himself from trembling. He kept thinking, "what if whatever they have done to her has somehow changed her ability to heal and revive? What if they've made her mortal and this is it?" The thought was unbearable for it meant that not only had he lost her for good but she had died not knowing who she really was, who he was and with no memory of the love they had shared. And that was the most tragic part to Duncan MacLeod.

"Please Caitlin," he whispered as one of his tears fell onto her forehead. "Please, my love, don't leave me. Come back to me. I love you. And I know you love me. We can fight this thing. Just like we have everything...together...as a team...please, baby, please come back to me."

Methos had been sitting in a chair on the front porch, his feet propped on the railing and a bottle of beer in his hand. He had been silently and mindlessly watching a doe and her fawn grazing at the tree line directly across the meadow from the him. His solace was shattered when he heard, "Methos! Get in here." It was MacLeod's voice almost screaming that had penetrated his mindless state.

Methos reacted instinctively. He jumped to his feet and rushed into the house. Joe, who had been buried in his computer was almost to the bottom of the stairs and was looking up at the loft bedroom, his eyes wide. Methos brushed past him and took the stairs two at a time. When he reached the top he came to a stop.

He didn't need to check his patient's pulse. The scene before him told him everything he needed to know. He looked at MacLeod, cradling the woman they all believed to be Caitlin in his arms and rocking her as if rocking her to sleep. He was hunched over her and whispering something meant only for her ears and she was pale as a snow drift.

Methos walked slowly to the side of the bed they were on. Standing next to Duncan he put his hand on Mac's shoulder not only to comfort his friend but himself as well. Mac looked up at Methos, his face wet with tears. He started to say something to Methos but broke into sobs instead Methos felt a lump growing in his own throat.

"I know, Mac," Methos said softly. "I know." He reached down instinctively and placed two fingers on the side of her neck. He was not surprised that there was no pulse. He wanted to examine her and try and determine what had actually caused her death but he didn't want to ask MacLeod to let go of her. He really didn't think Duncan could. Holding her was keeping him together. So Methos had to resort to a minor examination, what he could do while she lay cradled in Duncan's arms.

His biggest question came when he gently raised first her right eyelid and flashed the beam of a pen light into it to checked her pupillary reaction, then the left eye. The right pupil, although sluggish to react because she was physically dead, did react. But the left pupil did not. He checked twice just to be sure but it never changed. Pieces of the medical part of the puzzle started to fit together. Her headache that became increasingly worse incapacitating her, her weakened reflexes in her right extremities, the dizziness and her elevated blood pressure and now the blown pupil; it all pointed to an anyrism that had ruptured. Now the only piece of that part of the puzzle missing was the reason why...what had caused it.

"She had an anyrism in her brain that ruptured," Methos explained to Mac. "That explains the pain she was in."

Duncan looked up at Methos and with a voice thick with emotion he asked, "so when she revives she'll be alright. Right?"

"Technically, yes," Methos said. "Unfortunately we don't know what caused it. It could be related to whatever they did to her or it could have been from the stress of her trying to remember things." He stepped back from the bed and placed a hand on Duncan's shoulder. He kept his eyes on the girl in Mac's arms. He didn't like her color. Most Immortals didn't get that waxy pallor of death when they died that Mortals did...but she did. "Then again," he continued in order to blank out the fear that she might not revive, "it maybe totally unrelated...caused from a riding injury or something. Who knows what she's been doing or what's happened to her in the three years she's been gone."

"Methos?" Duncan looked up at his friend and as Methos made eye contact with Mac he knew what Mac was going to ask. "She is going to come back, right?"

Methos did something then that he rarely did during his life as Dr. Adam Pierson because he hated the risk involved "Of course she is, Mac," he lied. "It just may take a little longer than usual." And with that he strolled over to the bay window and sat down on the window seat. He quickly turned his gaze out the window so that Mac wouldn't see his dishonesty in his eyes.

Downstairs, Joe had heard most of the conversation. He shook his head feeling the weight of sadness on his shoulders. He turned and as he walked back to his laptop and his research, he said a silent prayer that they not lose their Caitlin again.

He had been at his computer only a couple of minutes when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and answered it.

"Joe? It's Amanda," the voice said on the other end of the phone. "Where the hell are you?"

Joe was surprised to hear her voice. She had taken off to Europe six months ago hoping to uncover a trail of clues that MacLeod might have missed in his search for Caitlin and she had only called a couple of times during that time.

"Where are you?" Joe asked.

"I'm in your bar. Mike said you left with Adam a week ago to parts unknown and he has no idea where you are."

"You're back in the States?" Joe asked surprised.

"Yeah," she said and the disappointment, sadness and discouragement were obvious in her voice. "I owe Mac an apology. Methos too. I found nothing." She paused and Joe figured she was taking a drink of whatever Mike had poured her. When she spoke again her emotions were hidden and, although not completely up beat, she sounded more like the light hearted Amanda he knew. "So where the hell are you guys? Hell Mac isn't even home."

"We're all at Mac's cabin in the mountains," Joe said.

"Who's we all?" Amanda asked.

"Methos, Mac, me and...," Joe hesitated.

"Who?" Amanda pressed. "Who else is there?"

"Caitlin," Joe said softly.

"What?" Amanda shrieked into the phone and then the line went dead.

"Mike," she said, "I'm out of here." And Amanda practically ran out of the bar, got into her car and sped out of the parking lot.

Amanda had gone straight from the airport to Joe's Bar. She was exhausted. The last six months had been the most frustrating and disappointing months Amanda ever remembered experiencing in her 1100+ years. When she got to Joe's and found out that no one was around she began to feel the emotional and physical exhaustion that she had fought on the flight home. But when Joe told her Caitlin was with them at the cabin Amanda's energy returned.

Most of the three and a half hour drive Amanda spent remembering her one time student and best friend.

_**Flashback**_

_It's 1860 in a serene meadow surrounded by a dense and peaceful forest of Sequoia, Redwood and Oak trees across the bay from the bustling chaos of San Francisco. The day is sunny and warm, the sky a rich blue in contrast to trees that seemed to end somewhere outside of human view in that vast blueness. Two women, one with log red hair, the other with short dark brown hair, dressed in loose fitting men's trousers and undershirts appear to be battling each other with swords. Their movements seem like a perfectly choreographed ballet, each in rhythm with the other, flowing smoothly and in sync. Then the young red head miscalculates her move, fails to find a solid foothold and the other woman uses her opponent's momentary unbalance and is able to disarm her opponent with her own sword, which causes the red head to lose what was left of her concentration and as she tries to step backward out of the reach of her dark haired opponent, she steps on a piece of uneven ground leans a little too far forward trying to attempt to regain her balance which only aided the seemingly non-effort of her opponent to raise her sword just high enough to barely touch its steel to the red head's throat. _

_But instead of following through with the motion and what would seem to be the logical conclusion and outcome, the dark haired woman reaches out with her free hand, makes contact with the red head's shoulder and gives her a shove that send her sprawling backward and landing in an unflattering position in the grasses that carpeted the meadow._

_"Damn!" Cara pounds the ground on either side of herself and frustration and embarrassment are written all over her face. Amanda is laughing as she reaches down to help Cara up. "Oh, sure..." Cara pouts as she lets her friend and "mentor" pull her to her feet. "Go ahead. Laugh. As if I'm not humiliated enough."_

_"Humiliated? Why on Earth would you be humiliated?"_

"_Because, I don't think I'm ever going to get this crap down well enough to be able to remain on my feet and not on my ass every time we spar."_

_Amanda, took Cara by the shoulders and forced her to make eye contact with her. Then, looking almost inside of Cara, she said in a voice that no longer teased, but emulated reassurance and love, "You will get it. I have faith in you, you just need to have faith in yourself." Cara tried to break the intense eye contact but Amanda wouldn't let her. "If you hadn't lost your footing, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to disarm you and in doing so, startled you, shook you enough to weaken your confidence and concentration which threw you more off balance and opened the door all the way. It could very easily been the other way around."_

_"Yeah, right."_

_"CJ, I have fallen on my ass more times than I care to count."_

_"But you still have your head. You've been training me for 2 years now. You'd think I should have been able to at least master such a simple basic thing as keeping my feet under me no matter what the terrain."_

_Amanda put her arm around Cara's shoulder and steered her toward the small stream that gurgled through the meadow. "You really are a self perfectionist, aren't you?"_

_"A what?" Cara asked._

"_A self perfectionist."_

_"OK. I've heard of a perfectionist, but..."_

_At the stream both ladies sat on the cool ground, removed their shoes and dangled their feet in the cool water. Amanda lay back, closing her eyes. "A perfectionist is someone who expects perfection from everyone and everything around her. A self-perfectionist expects perfection from herself. It's OK for other people to make mistakes, but she doesn't allow herself to. She understands that situations are not always perfect but she demands that how she reacts to those imperfect situations and how she goes about resolving them or handling them to be perfect."_

_"That sounds like a load of crap," Cara laughs. "Where did you come up with that psychological mumbo-jumbo?"_

_Amanda chuckles, "Some guy I know."_

_"That figures," Cara lays back on the grassy carpet like her friend, only she doesn't close her eyes. Instead she looks up into the clear sky and watches a hawk gliding peacefully in big circles and she lets the warm sun wash over her like a blanket of comfort. "It's always a guy with you. Who was this one? Another woman's husband, a lover, a partner in crime?"_

_"Oh," Amanda says dramatically, "you wound me."_

_"Sorry." Cara giggles._

_"He's a friend, sometimes lover. More like a playmate."_

_"I'll bet," Cara shook her head. She admired and almost coveted her friend's relaxed bravado with men. Amanda never led them on with a false moralistic attitude. With Amanda, a man knew from the start just what her intentions were and she set the rules and limits of the relationship. If she just wanted to have some fun, she let them know. Cara never saw a man walk away from a relationship with Amanda, no matter how short it may have been, with hurt feelings because they expected more. In fact, Amanda remained friends with each and every man that had shared whatever time she had allowed. She wasn't cold and uncaring, she was just honest and each man that Amanda had let into her life during the 2 years Cara had been with her, had left happy and content. Amanda had a gift that Cara admired and envied. _

_"You're something else," Cara said trying to sound like she disapproved._

_"It's a gift," Amanda sighed. Cara looked at her friend, who was looking at her and they both burst into laughter._

_**Present day**_

Amanda became aware of her surroundings when a car passed her and honked at her because she was swerving over the center line on the two lane highway that led to Grisdale.

By the time she pulled into the town of Grisdale, Washington the only store of any kind that was open was a small twenty four hour convenience store and gas station. Amanda pulled in and parked. She got out and stretched her tired muscles then went inside and bought a large cup of coffee and then got back out on the road.

Amanda was surprised at the ease at which she found the dirt road that led to the meadow. She made her turn and slowly followed the tire ruts, eventually arriving at the meadow. Unlike everyone else who would stop at the end of the tree line before driving across the bridge to admire the awe inspiring beauty of the secluded meadow, Amanda accelerated across the wooden bridge and came to a stop behind Methos Landrover. As she got out of her car she felt the buzz of several Immortals coming from inside the house which was lit up like a Christmas tree from the lights inside.

Methos felt the Immortal buzz only seconds before Mac did. He was already standing and starting to walk toward the stairs when Duncan raised his head and looked around.

"I'll take care of it, Mac," Methos said quietly and headed downstairs.

Joe had seen the headlights and was already on his feet. He looked tired and his eyes were red from staring at the computer screen for so long.

"Why don't you put that thing away, Joe?" Methos said. "Get some rest. I know there's a couch in the den." He pointed to the room under the stairs as he continued walking toward the door. As he passed the sofa table in the living room where he had laid his sword when they first arrived he picked it up and held it in his right hand as he opened the front door with his left.

Amanda had just stepped onto the front porch when Methos opened the door. She saw his sword in his hand and smiled. "I've always had a thing for guys with big swords," she teased.

Methos let out a sigh of relief, even though he was curious as to why she was here, especially since the last time he had heard, she was still in Europe. He smiled and quipped, "I've heard that about you."

Amanda reached up and put her arms around his neck giving him a hug. "Believe it or not," she said, almost whispering, "I actually missed you."

Methos stepped aside so she could come in the house.

As soon as Amanda was inside she turned to Methos and said, "OK. Where is she?"

Methos looked at her confused.

"Joe?" Amanda turned to Joe. "You told me...," Amanda started.

Joe held up his hands to quiet Amanda down. But Methos took more aggressive action. He grabbed her arm, opened the front door and practically dragged her out onto the front porch.

"What the hell are you doing?" Amanda yelled once she was let go.

"Is it at all possible for you to NOT yell?" Methos groaned.

"Well first I'm told that Caitlin's here and after I bust my ass getting here I'm drug outside," Amanda was still talking loudly but not as loud as she had been.

"Just calm down," Methos said.

"I am calm," Amanda retorted but she didn't sound calm.

"When you calm down," Methos chose to ignore her retort, "I'll explain it but there's no sense me trying to talk to you when you're like this."

Amanda plopped into the porch swing, pouting.

"And you ought to know by now that that doesn't work on me," he added in regards to her pouting. When he determined she had calmed down enough he began to explain the situation and all that had transpired in the past few weeks.

As Amanda listened the expression on her face went from fascination to disbelief to anger to sadness then to concern.

When Methos didn't come back right away Duncan became concerned. He couldn't hear any voices in the house so he figured that they must have gone outside. He was actually toying with the idea of going down to check out the situation when Caitlin gasped for air and sat up coughing. Duncan released his hold on her and helped her sit up placing his hand against her back for support.

"It's OK, honey," he said gently. "Just take a couple of deep breaths."

Kelly woke up gasping for air. Her lungs were completely empty and it took more than the usual gasp to fill them and the process caused her to cough. Through the coughing fit she could hear Duncan's voice reassuring her. When the fit of coughing ended and she was able to coax her chest muscles into allowing her to inhale more deeply she realized that Duncan had his hand on her back supporting her. Her first instinct was to move away but there was something about the warmth of his touch that made her feel safe so she banished her instinct.

Finally able to breath normally she looked at her surroundings. The room was dimly lit by the lights from the downstairs rooms. She turned and looked at Duncan. His eyes were red indicating he had been crying and she felt sorry for what he must have been going through.

Kelly sat quietly as she went over in her45 mind what had transpired over the last week. The pain in her head was gone, her "death" having healed the anyrism Dr. Pierson had suspected she had. Even tough the pain was gone, for now, she was more confused than ever. She had listened as both Duncan and Pierson had poked holes in what she thought was her past. For months she had remembered being married to a man who was supposed to be a simple researcher and a mortal. But she had seen the evidence when Duncan brought Joe's laptop upstairs and showed her the file. He, of course, then had to explain to her about the Watchers.

Kelly reflected on this piece of information. If the memory of her life was a lie then how many others were, too? And if her life, the life she remembered was all a lie then who was she really? And why would someone do this to her?

Kelly became aware o Duncan's watchful eye and turned to look at him. When she did he asked, "Are you alright?" His voice was soft and comforting and he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Kelly nodded and said, "yes." But as soon as she did she was filled with emotions and broke into tears and she shook her head and whispered, "no."

Duncan was taken by surprise when she began to cry. At first he didn't know what to do but her tears made his heart ache for her and he gently pulled her into his arms. She didn't fight him this time. He held her until she stopped crying and gently pushed away from him, wiping her eyes.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**Chapter XXIII**_

Amanda sat on the porch swing, her eyes wide and her mouth open in amazement as she listened to Methos and Joe explain to her what had been going on since she left the States. Finally, when they finished she put her elbows on her knees and covered her face with her hands and exhaled long and slow.

Methos walked over and sat next to her on the swing. He put his hand on her shoulder and asked, "Hey, Amanda? Are you okay?"

Amanda nodded her head and turned her face up to look at him. There were tears in her eyes but she was smiling. "Yeah," she said in almost a whisper. "I'm fine." After she looked at him for a few moments, she raised up, squared her shoulders and looked up at Joe, then back to Methos. "Well?" She said, looking from one to the other.

"Well, what?" Methos asked.

"Can I go see her now, gentlemen?" She asked.

Methos smiled and said, "you realize she won't know you."

Amanda nodded, "I understand that. I still want to see her."

Methos got to his feet and put out his hand to help her up. Amanda took his hand and stood up. She looked over at Joe who had opened the front door and was bowing gallantly. She winked at him as she passed and let her hand brush him under his chin as she grinned over her shoulder at Methos and, "Now there's a gentleman You should take some lessons from Joe, old man," and she walked to the center of the living room.

Upstairs, Duncan heard Amanda's voice and straightened up, unsure if her being there was a good thing or not.

Kelly saw Duncan sit up straight and looked at him with concern. "What is it?" She asked quietly.

Duncan looked at her and said with a partial smile, "a friend."

Kelly watched as Duncan got up and walked to the railing overlooking the downstairs rooms.

Duncan looked over the railing at his three friends downstairs, then back at the woman on his bed. "I'll be right back," he said and headed down the stairs.

When Amanda first laid eyes on Duncan as he came into the living room she was shocked. She had seen him at his worse before but she wasn't prepared for the way he looked now. He had dark circles under his eyes which were red from obvious crying. "You look like hell," she said and walked up and put her arms around his neck.

"It's been a rough week," he mumbled into her neck as he hugged her.

"So I hear," she said and let him go. She glanced up toward the bedroom. Standing at the railing looking down at them was her one time student and best friend.

"Easy," Duncan whispered as he saw the look in Amanda's eyes and knew she wanted to run up and throw her arms around her friend but he knew it wasn't a good idea at that moment.

"I know," Amanda whispers back. "I'm cool."

Methos looked up and smiled at the girl looking down at them. He walked casually towards the stairs.

Kelly watched the scene going on below her. These people were all good friends and seemed to care a lot about each other. She watched the woman carefully. There was something about her...

_**Flashback**_

_It's 1878 in San Fransisco, California. The girl with the long red hair is sitting at a table with four men. She's holding five cards in her hand and has four large stacks of poker chips in front of her while each of the men at the table have only one or two stacks in front of them. She rearranges the cards in her hand._

_The man on her right says, "bet's to you Miss O'Dell." The girl thinks for a moment then removes two chips from one of her stacks and tosses them into the center of the table. Each man to her left follows suit._

_The man on her right says, "cards?" and the girl removes one card from her hand and sets it face down on the table and pushes it towards her right. The man deals her one card which she picks up and places in her hand. Each man to her left is dealt two or three cards._

_When the deal is finished the man on her right says, "bet," and the girl removes three chips from one of her stacks and tosses them into the center of the table. Her face is completely void of expression as she studies the cards in her hand and waits for the others to decide what they are going to do._

_The first man on her left folds, tossing his cards down on the table with definite frustration. The next man deliberates for a few minutes then looks at the girl trying to read something in her face that might tell him how good a hand she has. The girl looks up from her cards, her face still expressionless and raises an eyebrow in question. The man removes three chips from his dwindling stack and tosses them into the center of the table._

_The next man does the same, smiling confidently. The next man follows suit except after tossing in three chips he removes two more and tosses them in as well. He looks the girl square in the eyes and smirks as he says, "see you and raise you $1000 more." Someone standing nearby gasps, someone whistles and people begin to gather around the table to watch._

"_Bet's to you again, Miss O'Dell," the dealer says_

_The girl studies her hand then looks into the eyes of the man across from her. The woman from downstairs steps through the crowd of onlookers and stands behind the girl at the table. She, too, has no expression on her face. The girl simply nods at the man across from her and meets his bet and raises it by adding two more chips to the pot._

_The next man to her left tosses his hand on the table, sighs and sits back in his chair. "Too rich for my blood," he says and downs the contents of the shot glass on the table in front of him. The man who originally raised the bet looks worried. But he calls her bet and sits forward expectantly._

_The girl sighs and gets a sad look on her face. In an Irish Brogue she says, "oh dear.' The man across from her begins to smile and his hands start to reach for the pile of chips in the center of the table. The girl's expression turns from one of sad regret to one of smugness as she lays her cards on the table face up and spreads them out displaying a King high royal straight flush and she says, "I'm afraid I win again." _

_The man's face falls as his hands double into fists and he slams them into the table knocking over his own meager stack of chips. The onlookers applaud and the woman standing behind the girl grins proudly and hugs the girl saying, "that's my Caitlin." _

_The man who has just lost stands up as the girl reaches across the table and begins to rake in her winnings. "You cheated," he exclaims loudly._

"_Excuse me?" The girl asks looking at him warily._

"_I said...you cheated," he repeats his accusation and reaches for his revolver in the holster around his hip._

"_Mr. Hampton, please,' the dealer tries to intervene._

"_I wouldn't," says the woman standing behind the girl and all eyes turn to her. She is standing erect and pointing a very ornately engraved Derringer at the man._

_He freezes in mid motion and looks at the two women. The red head finishes scooping up her chips and rakes them all into a tray that the dealer has just handed her. She gets up from the table and nods to each of the other men and says, "It's been a pleasure, gentlemen, for sure." She takes a couple of steps backward placing the woman with the gun between her and the angry loser, then turns and walks away, shoulders back and head held high, the woman with the gun following. As the light fades they both look at each other and burst into laughter._

_**Present day**_

Kelly realized that she had moved from the railing that overlooked the downstairs rooms to the bay window and had sat down on the window seat. She was staring out at the nearly full moon.

Amanda got to the top of the stairs and stopped looking at the girl across the room Her hair was shorter...almost as short as her own...and lighter, more blond. Her face was thinner and the mischievous twinkle was gone from her green eyes. But it was Caitlin, without a doubt. No one would tell her different.

Amanda had had several students in her time but none had shown the drive and promise as Caitlin had. And none had had the infectious love of life as Caitlin And Amanda had never bonded with any of them as she had with Caitlin They had become best friends, almost sisters; their bond was so tight. Both seemed to know when the other needed a friend and would show up out of the blue on the other's door step. It was that bond that made Amanda absolutely sure that the girl across the room from her was Caitlin, no matter what the girl believed.

Kelly looked into the eyes of the woman standing at the top of the stairs. She was unaware that Duncan stood behind the woman, one step down and that Dr. Pierson was behind him.

Methos started to say something but MacLeod signaled with his hand to hold up.

Duncan looked from Amanda to Kelly and back again. He couldn't explain what he saw or what he felt that seemed to pass between the two women but he knew it was something powerful. They stared at each other as though they somehow connected.

Amanda took a couple of steps closer to the girl, their eyes locked on each other. The girl did not look afraid or intimidated. A little confused, maybe, but definitely not afraid. No did she look threatening. She simply stared in Amanda's eyes.

"Caitlin?" Amanda said softly and took another step closer.

"Kelly," the girl corrected, but her voice was small...almost as if she were in a trance. The response was obviously made out of some "programed" instinct.

"Cait," Amanda used her nick name for her friend; a name only she had called her. "It's me, Amanda," she said softly.

"Mand?" Kelly asked. It was Caitlin's pet name for Amanda and she was the only person aloud to use it because ordinarily Amanda hated to have people shorten her name. The name floated around in Kelly's head. It was somehow familiar to her and is sparked many warm feelings inside her.

"That's right," Amanda said and stepped closer. "You do remember, don't you?"

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	24. Chapter 24

_**Chapter XXIV**_

Methos, Amanda, Joe and Duncan spent the next few days talking about their connected pasts and relating stories of memorable times. Kelly listened intently to each one. On occasion something familiar would flicker in her mind but she was never quite able to pin those flickers down long enough to see if they were viable memories. She had, however, begun to realize that she did know these people and she also began to realize that her life as Kelly McKinney was _not_ her life.

"I really am Caitlin,' she said, finally. They were all sitting on the front porch. It was a beautiful afternoon in the meadow and they had finished lunch only thirty minutes before and had come outside.

"Yes," Amanda said excitedly. "Yes...finally."

Methos looked first at the excited Amanda then over to Duncan who was smiling but obviously restraining his own joy. "Seems like, as always, I'll have to the Logic Police," he thought to himself. Out loud he said, "But You don't actually remember being Caitlin, do You?" He spoke calmly and smiled warmly at her as he spoke.

She shook her head and said, "not other than those few memory flashes I told You about."

Duncan, who was sitting across from her in one of the porch chairs leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He looked lovingly into her eyes and said, "You told us that You saw visions before. Can You tell us what You saw?"

"They were like shattered pictures, mostly," she answered. "I realize some of them were memories but others...they were like the nightmares and made no sense."

"Can You tell us?" Methos repeated Duncan's question.

"Some were of battles...most were of either You," she said looking at Duncan, "trying to take my head. But there were a couple where I took yours."

Duncan sat back and shuddered remembering the nightmare he had had about her taking his head.

Methos glanced at Duncan, watching his reaction as he, too, remembered the nightmare Duncan had related to him. "Do You know why You were taking Duncan's head?" He asked.

"Not really," she shook her head. "I just figured it had something to do with my job."

Joe spoke up and said, "You keep mentioning this job. What exactly did You do?"

She looked at each of the faces looking at her. She knew she could trust each of them now...that they were not a threat to her...but to tell them about the Organization...but something inside her told her she needed to tell them, especially since there was probably already an extraction team assigned to find her and bring her back. "I worked...or at least I remember working for the Organization. Their main goal is to eliminate those Immortals that pose a threat to mankind," she began and all four members of her "audience" exchanged curious looks...almost as if they were familiar with the Organization or at least its goal.

"Eliminate?" Amanda said.

"How did they determine who was a threat and who wasn't?" Duncan asked.

"That i don't know. They had a database with profiles on those they were looking for. I was a member of an extraction team that would be assigned to either terminate an Immortal from the list or bring him or her in."

"Bring them in for what?" Methos asked.

"To be honest, I have no idea what happened to them once they were brought in. I was what they called a cleaner. I was responsible for the termination if they couldn't be brought in. They used Immortals for cleaners because of our ability to sense each other and our fighting skills."

"What about the rules of the Game? What about...there can be only one?" Joe asked.

She thought for a minute and realized that she honestly had no answer for him. "I never questioned it before," she said as she realized another discrepancy in he memories. "I never thought about it. Like it didn't exist." She looked at Duncan. "I just did my job without question."

"And how long did You say You worked for them?" Methos asked.

"I remember working for them for ten years. But that wouldn't be possible if I only went missing three and a half years ago. So I don't know."

"But You did have assignments during the last three and a half years?" Joe asked.

"I'm not sure. Not now anyway."

Duncan could see that she was becoming unnerved by all this and took her hands to calm her. "What about the man You were supposed to be married to?" He asked.

She told them about the supposed plane crash and waking up in a Greek hospital. She told them that when she returned home from Greece she had felt like a stranger in her own home and she admitted that now she understood why. She said that that was when her memories had started playing tricks on her and she had started having the dreams, nightmares and visions and that she also realized that they had her under survey lance and that's when she figured she needed to get answers on her own...she no longer trusted them. She also told them about overhearing them say that Brian McKinney was an Immortal which made her question the whole plane crash incident.

"God," she said. "What did they do to me?" She didn't realize that she had a death grip on Duncan's hands.

Duncan moved over to the swing and sat next to her. "I think we've interrogated her enough for awhile, don't You, guys?" He said giving Methos a look of warning. They all agreed. Then he looked down at Caitlin and said, "Why don't we take a little walk? You could use the exercise and maybe some of the forest's beauty will spark a memory or two." To which she nodded and got to her feet.

Methos, Joe and Amanda went inside while Duncan took her by the hand and led her toward the tree line at the north end of the meadow. They walked in silence until they got to the waterfall and Duncan took a seat on the big flat rock that overhung the pool. Caitlin sat down next to him.

"Do You remember this place?" He asked.

"I had a flash of a memory when I found this place when i first got here. Before You discovered me," she answered.

Duncan lowered his eyes and smiled. "Was...," he hesitated.

She smiled and a blush crept up her cheeks. "It was of You and...me," she said admitting out loud for the second time that day that she was Caitlin MacLeod, not Kelly McKinney. "Making love."

Duncan looked up at her. She looked so beautiful in the sunlight that played through the trees. He missed her long red hair but she still was the most beautiful woman he had ever met...both inside and out.

She could see the love in his eyes and more than ever, wished she could feel the same...or remember feeling what she must have felt three and a half years before. "Duncan? She asked in a small, timid voice and she looked at the waterfall to avoid his eyes.

"Yes?" He answered softly.

"Tell me about our wedding?" She asked.

Duncan was rather surprised at her question but also pleased. So he laid on his side on the warm rock and propped himself up on one elbow. He closed his eyes as he began speaking, picturing the event in his mind.

"We got married in the meadow. Our friends parked in that wide spot of the dirt road and road in carriages across the stream to the canopy. Amanda was your maid of honor, of course, and she wore a dress made of the O'Dell...your family's... tartan. Connor was my best man and we were dressed in traditional Scottish wedding coats and kilts of the MacLeod tartan. Adam gave You away and Darius officiated." He paused realizing he had mentioned two names that she may not remember. He opened his eyes to look at her and was surprised to see that she, too, had her eyes closed. He continued, only this time he was watching her. "You wore a 16th century wedding gown of lace and satin, trimmed in your tartan. Your flowers were...," he paused trying, himself to remember.

"Lilacs, Heather, and white roses," she said in almost a whisper She had used the flash she had had when she looked at the photographs of the wedding with what he had been describing and suddenly...she knew.

"Yes," Duncan said. "That's right. We wrote our own vows."

She opened her eyes and looked at Duncan and asked, "We did? Do You remember them? Yours?"

"As if I just said them today," Duncan said softly.

"Say them," she said. "Please?"

Duncan looked up at her. He sat up, crossing his legs "Indian style". He looked into her eyes and took her hands and said, "If in the morning when You awake, if the sun does not appear, I will be there. If in the dark we lose sight of love, hold my hand and have no fear, I will be here. I will be here when You feel like being quiet. When You need to speak your mind, I will listen. Through the winning, losing and trying we'll be together, and I will be here. If in the morning when You awake, if the future is unclear, I will hold You, to watch You grow in beauty and tell You all the things You are to me. We'll be together and I will be here. I will be true to the promises I've made, to You and to the one who gave You to me and I will be here."

As he spoke, Caitlin could see him standing proudly in his wedding coat and kilt, holding her hands and making his vow to her. She could smell the lilac and heather. She could feel the gentle breeze. She could hear the faint and muffled sniffles behind her. The words came to her from out of the blue and she spoke them softly as she looked into Duncan's eyes. "I promise to give You the best of myself and to ask You no more than You can give. I promise to respect You as your own person and to realize that your interests, desires and needs are no less important than my own. I promise to share with You my time and my attention and to bring joy, strength and imagination to our relationship. I promise to keep myself open to You, to let You see through the window of my world into my innermost fears and feelings, secrets and dreams. I promise to grow along with You, to be willing to face changes in order to keep our relationship alive and exciting," and then something happened. Her heart began to pound and a warmth filled her from her toes to her head, Her eyes filled with tears and as she spoke the last words of her vow to him, she felt something that at first was foreign to her. " I promise to love You in good times and bad with all I have to give and all I feel inside in the only way I know how...completely and forever," she said and simultaneously recognized the emotion that was now overwhelming her...it was love...their love.

Duncan saw the tears trickle down her cheeks and the smile on her face and when he looked into her eyes, he saw the love and tears sprung to his own eyes. "Caitlin?" He said.

She reached up and laid the palm of her hand on his cheek and nodded. "Yes. I remember. I remember."

Duncan reached out and pulled her into his arms and held her tight. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and wept tears of joy...as did she.

Duncan finally gained control of his emotions and pushed away from Caitlin enough to look at her. He reached up and placed his hand on her cheek and looked in her eyes. It was as if he was looking at her for the very first time and falling in love with her all over again. For so long he had dreamt of being able to look into her green eyes again and then he had almost given up hope. Now here she was and the love he had always seen when he looked in her eyes was there, too.

He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb and smiled. "I missed you," he said softly and his voice cracked. "I thought...,"

Caitlin reached up and placed two fingers gently on his lips, smiled and shook her head. The she leaned closer and gently kissed him.

Duncan placed one hand behind her head and the other around her lower back and slowly lowered her backward so she was laying on the large flat boulder and they made love.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	25. Chapter 25

_**Chapter XXV**_

"She's starting to remember," Amanda said happily. She, Methos and Joe were sitting on the sofa in the living room.

"She's got a long way to go though," Methos cautioned. "And we need to take it slow."

"I know," Amanda said.

Just then Joe's cell phone rang and he went into the study to answer it. When he came back into the living room he announced that he had to return to Seacouver to handle some business that came up.

Amanda tossed him the keys to her car and told him to take it, that she'd ride back with Methos when he left.

Joe said his goodbyes and left.

Methos went into the kitchen to see what there was to fix for lunch.

"There's not much out here," Methos called out from the kitchen.

"Why don't we go into town for some supplies?" Amanda called back. "We can leave them a note. They'll probably welcome the privacy."

"Good idea," Methos agreed.

Amanda proceeded to write a quick note to Duncan and the two of them got into Methos' Landrover and headed out of the meadow for town.

Duncan propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at Caitlin. He gently traced the line of her cheek with his fingertip as he smiled at her lovingly.

"What are you thinking?" Caitlin asked as she looked up into his eyes. She placed her hand over his and turned her head just enough so that she could kiss his palm.

"Just how beautiful you are," Duncan said softly and Caitlin blushed.

"Even with all my hair cut off?"

Duncan continued to smile as he said, "It'll grow back. And if it doesn't you'll still be beautiful."

There were still a lot of holes in her memory but Caitlin's memories of how it felt to be loved by this man were vivid and she felt warm inside...and safe...for the first time in months.

"I love you, Caitlin MacLeod," he said and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. After a few minutes he raised up and said, "We probably should be getting back before they send out a search party,"

Caitlin giggled and let him help her to her feet. They got dressed and started down the path towards the meadow, their arms around each other.

Halfway to the cabin Duncan and Caitlin stopped in their tracks as they heard the sound of a helicopter overhead. They looked at each other questioningly for a few seconds. Then the peaceful forest was filled with the sound of automatic weapons fire. They dove for cover. After a few minutes they made their way to a safe vantage point.

Hovering in front of the cabin was a black military style helicopter. It was firing its guns at the cabin, as were the three men inside. Parked on either side of the cabin were two black military Hum vies and three men dressed in black fatigues and Kevlar vests stood outside of each vehicle and opened fire on the sides of the house. Chunks of wood and shattered glass flew all around.

"Amanda!" Caitlin exclaimed and started to get to her feet.

Duncan pulled her back down. "Wait!" He said. "Methos' SUV is gone. They're not there." He looked at Caitlin. "Who are they?" He asked and nodded toward the men in the meadow.

"An extrication/termination team," she answered.

"A what?" Duncan asked. "What do they want?"

"Me," she said matter of factly.

"They want to kill you? Don't they know bullets won't do any good?"

"They'll keep this up until they figure everyone inside is dead then they'll go in and behead whoever's in there."

"But the cabin's on Holy Ground."

Caitlin looked at Duncan and there was fear in her eyes. "Duncan, they're Mortals. They don't care."

Duncan grabbed Caitlin's hand and got to his feet. "Come on," he said and keeping low led Caitlin away from the carnage. When he was sure they could not be seen he straightened up and began to run and it was all Caitlin could do to keep up with him as they dashed through the forest away from the once peaceful meadow.

Duncan knew that as long as they could hear gun fire they had time and he hoped that he could put some distance between them during that time. Suddenly it was no longer 2005 but 1872 and he and several other braves of Little Deer's tribe of the Lakota were trying to put some distance between themselves and a few rogue Blackfoot. His steps were true and sure and his instincts sharp.

A ways past the waterfall Duncan veered east, away from the stream. Here the terrain became more rocky which would eliminate foot prints. Because of the higher altitude there was less foliage to break, also. He led Caitlin up the mountainside and across two rock faces. Twice she slipped and his heart raced as he held on to her and pulled her back up able to use only one hand as he needed to grasp what he could of the granite boulder they were traversing to keep from falling himself.

When they reached more level ground, he stopped and listened. Although distant he could still hear gun fire.

When they came to a stop Caitlin bent over and placed her hands on her knees and fought to slow her breathing. The air had grown thinner and, coupled with the fact that this was the most exercise she had had in two weeks, she was finding it hard to breathe. Her legs already felt like butter and her head was threatening to start hurting again.

"I can't go on, Duncan," she panted. "You go on. It's me they want. They won't even know you were here."

Duncan took in a final deep breath and took Caitlin's hand. "You can do it, baby. Come on," he said encouragingly and turned heading now in a westerly direction. "You don't think they ran the plates on both vars before they filled them with bullet holes? Believe me. They know I'm here."

"Do you think they got Amanda and...," the doctor was one of those holes in her memory.

"Adam," Duncan helped. "and I don't know. Let's worry about us now and we can worry about them later."

Caitlin was too out of breath to argue. "I'm assuming you do know where you're going, right?" She asked.

Duncan simply gave her hand a squeeze as he picked up the pace.

When they came to the stream again Duncan led Caitlin into the water. They ran upstream quite a ways then Duncan exited the stream and stood on the bank and looked at his surroundings.

Caitlin watched as Duncan surveyed the landscape and took the opportunity to catch her breath. She could tell he was looking for something specific. Although she had spent many hours exploring the forest surrounding the meadow and had spent five years of her life just on the other side of this mountain she could not remember ever climbing this high and there was definitely no familiar vibes.

"This way," Duncan said and took her hand again and once again they were off, this time headed west. They were farther away from the meadow now and he could no longer hear the gun fire. He didn't want to take the chance of thinking it was their distance and be wrong so he headed for the thicker part of the forest to shelter them from the helicopter should it already be hunting them from above. He was headed for a specific location that he had remembered during his brief flashback. There had been a small "cave" created by the way some very large boulders had come to rest on each other that he and the other braves had hidden in from the rogue Blackfoot they were running from. It had been small, even then, and...if it still existed, would probably be even smaller now, but he hoped it would be big enough for the two of them as it would be getting dark soon and he knew that their pursuers would have night vision and heat sensor equipment so they would be safer to take cover until dawn.

Duncan glanced back at Caitlin. She was struggling and he saw her hand go to her head a couple of times which worried him, but she was keeping up. She missed her footing and even though she recovered right away, Duncan slowed his pace and put his arm around her waist to give her some added support.

Caitlin realized that she was leaning more and more on Duncan the further they ran and the further they ran the denser the forest became. Here there was a mixture of rock, tall pines, scrub oak and various ground covers. Just as they graying sky darkened and the first few stars could be seen they came to a stop and Duncan began moving the brush from one certain area at the base of a large boulder.

Duncan was sure this was the spot. It was basically on a wide ledge with 500 feet of sheer granite above and below them. The upper rock face had a split that cut diagonally and at the end had a chunk missing. The ground around the missing piece had been hollowed into a small cave that had served as a wolf's den several times. It extended back into the hillside far enough...at least back in the 1800s when Duncan and his friends used it to hide from the Crow it did...for three men to fit in and when the entrance was covered with brush it became invisible, especially at night.

Sure enough...it was there...just as he remembered it. He turned back to Caitlin and reached out to her.

"Come on, sweetheart,' he said as she took his hand. "Get in."

Caitlin looked at the dark little cave dubiously and was suddenly reminded of the month she spent in a sweat box while in a Japanese POW camp in the South Pacific.

Duncan saw her hesitation and squeezed her hand. "It's alright, baby. I'll be right there with you. Trust me?"

Caitlin answered instinctively and without hesitation. "Yes," and she crawled into the little cave.

Duncan took a branch and wiped away their foot prints from at least thirty yards then he joined Caitlin and recovered the cave's entrance with the brush, adding a little to help keep some of the heat their bodies would generate in the little cave so they didn't end up with hypothermia during the night.

When Duncan had found a comfortable position with his legs out in front of him he urged Caitlin to sit between his legs, her back against him and he opened his jacket (even though it was lightweight) and wrapped what he could of it and his arms around Caitlin in an attempt to keep her warm. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and listened to the rhythm of her breathing. He relaxed a little when he was sure she had fallen asleep but only dozed lightly throughout the night.

_**To Be Continued**_


	26. Chapter 26

_**Chapter XXVI**_

Caitlin awoke just before dawn. She could feel Duncan's even breathing behind her and knew he was asleep. It was cold inside the small cave but not unbearably so. She lay in her husband's arms and listened to the sounds outside their refuge. Although it was still dark outside some of the morning birds had already begun to sing. And there was another sound. A sound foreign to the mountain forest. It was the low drumming of a helicopter and although it was off in the distance it signified that the extraction team was still searching for them. She dozed on and off until sunlight although attuned to every sound outside the small cave. At first light she gently nudged Duncan awake and then, being the easier of the two to crawl to the opening, did so to survey the situation outside.

As Caitlin looked out the opening of the small cave, Duncan stretched his cramped legs. He watched her in silent admiration still unable to believe she was back in his life again.

Caitlin turned to see Duncan watching her. "What?" She asked, feeling a little self-conscious.

Duncan shook his head with a smile. Then gave a nod toward the outside. "What's going on out there?" He asked.

"they've got the helicopter out but it's quite aways away," she answered and pointed in the direction they had come.

Duncan nodded as he moved toward the opening of the cave. "Good. They're following the misdirections. We better get going before they figure it out."

"Duncan," Caitlin said, "where? We can't run from them forever."

Duncan reached past her and pushed the brush away from the opening. Then he made eye contact with her. Seeing the worry and fear in her green eyes, he reached up and, using the back of his hand, gently caressed her cheek as he said smiling, "We won't have to." He leaned forward and gave her a gentle, quick kiss. "Come on. Let's get going,' he said softly and put his hand on her shoulder, gently turning her toward the cave opening.

Duncan followed Caitlin out of the cave, replaced the brush and used a piece of it to brush away their tracks. "Head up," he directed and followed close behind Caitlin.

The climb was a gradual one for some distance then leveled out. Duncan took the lead at that point, taking Caitlin's hand as he broke into a run.

Caitlin did her best to keep up but the thin air and the fact that her head was beginning to throb again began to slow her down. After she had stumbled a couple of times she let go of Duncan's hand and stopped, bending over, placing her hands on her thighs and tried to catch her breath.

Duncan stopped and looked up through the trees at the sky and the position of the sun. it was mid day and they had been running for at least four hours. He went over to Caitlin and leaned down, putting his hand on her back.

"You okay?" He asked, out of breath himself.

Caitlin didn't answer him right away as she desperately tried to slow her breathing. Finally she nodded a couple of times.

Duncan looked around, getting his bearings. As he surveyed their surroundings he listened. So far the only sounds he heard were those of a Blue Jay, a Woodpecker and his wife's labored breathing Figuring they had increased the distance between themselves and their pursuers, he led Caitlin over to a log and said, "sit here and catch your breath,." which she did.

When Duncan remained standing Caitlin looked up at him. It was obvious he had other plans. "What?" She asked. "Where are you going?'

Duncan smiled as he said, "just stay put. I'll be right back." He took a couple of steps then looked back. He pointed to her, warningly and repeated, "stay put."

Caitlin drew her knees up and folded her arms, laying them on her knees, and rested her forehead on her arms. She tried not to think, even though the temptation to try and put everything that had happened to her since arriving at the meadow in some kind of order and analyze it was strong. She was afraid that if she gave in to the temptation the effort would accelerate the throbbing in her head.

Duncan searched the foliage for edible berries knowing they both needed to replace some of the protein the were using up. When he had gathered a couple of handfuls each he returned to Caitlin's side. As he approached her he saw how she was sitting and wondered if her headache was returning. If it was then she might go through what she had gone through before and that would mean that she would be destined to repeat it over and over until they found out what was causing it. And even if the cause was found there was no guarantee that they would be able to stop it. As he sat on the ground next to her he forced those thoughts out of his mind.

"Here," he said, removing a couple handfuls of berries from his pockets and handing them to her. "Eat these."

Caitlin raised her head and silently accepted the berries. She slowly ate what Duncan had given her without any argument. As she ate the last few in her hand she looked over at Duncan. He had eaten his and was looking around. She watched him, memorizing his features. She had forgotten him once before and she didn't want to ever again. She still had a lot of holes in her memory as Caitlin, as we as several as Kelly and there were still a lot of memories of both lives that were criss-crossing each other, confusing her. She wanted to make sense of them...to figure out what had happened to her and, most of all, stop the people who had done this to her and to Duncan..

Duncan felt her watching him and turned to look at her. He saw the look in her eyes and knew what she was thinking so he put his arm around her shoulders, laid his hand on the side of her head, gently pulling it to his chest.

"It'll be okay, sweetheart," he said softly. "It'll be okay." He hoped he wasn't wrong.

After a few more minutes of resting, Duncan removed his arm from around her shoulders and got to his feet. As he held out his hand to help Caitlin up, he said, "Come on. We need to get going."

Caitlin took his hand and as she stood up she asked, "where are we going, Duncan?"

Duncan pointed toward a low ridge in the mountain and said, "just over that ridge."

Caitlin looked in the direction he was pointing. "Why? What's there?" It was obvious he had a plan.

Duncan took her hand and started walking fast in that direction as he said, "someone who might help us." At least he hoped that they would.

_**»Pacific Northwest Mountains 1995«**_

_Duncan and his friend, Charlie DeSalvo, while traveling through the mountains, have car trouble (Charlie's Jeep breaks down) and they end up camping out overnight. In the morning they meet a young Native American girl and a baby she claims is hers. She begs them to help her escape her father-in-law who wants to take her baby from her. They believe her story and try to help but soon learn that the baby isn't hers, that it belongs to the man chasing her, Avery Hoskins. Duncan gets her to return Hoskins' son to him and he tells Duncan that he owes him one._

After a short distance Duncan picked up their pace and they began running again. By nightfall they had finally reached the top of the ridge.

Duncan didn't want to stop now that they were so close to possible help, but Caitlin was exhausted. She had stumbled several times and she was in obvious pain. Unfortunately they had run out of forest cover and the remaining terrain was wide open. Even though they still hadn't heard any helicopters, he knew it was just a matter of time and he still was afraid they'd have high tech gear for locating them at night.

When they came to a stream, Duncan located a small grove of young poplars and he led his wife into it and stopped. "We'll stop here," he said.

Caitlin found a sandbar in the stream, dropped to her knees, cupped her hands together, scooped up some water and drank heartily. When she had drank her fill she stood and looked around.

Duncan looked around for anything edible but was unable to locate anything. He finally returned and knelt by the stream, quenching his own thirst.

Caitlin had located a large rocky outcropping where she had sat on the ground with her back up against the rock. She watched Duncan drink. When he had finished and stood up, turning to face her she asked, "how much farther to where ever it is you're headed?"

Duncan came and sat next to her. "Probably five miles or so," he answered.

"I'm assuming it's downhill?" She questioned. "Like in that little valley?" She pointed behind them with her thumb.

Duncan nodded. "Actually it's before the valley."

Caitlin sat up and turned completely around to face him, sitting cross legged. "The why don't we just keep going?" She asked looking him directly in the eye.

Duncan looked at her, surprised at her suggestion. He could see in the fading light that she had lost the color in her cheeks she'd gained after reviving and the dark circles under her eyes were returning. It was obvious, also, by the way she squinted slightly, that her head was aching again. He would have figured that the last thing she would want to do was continue on.

Caitlin saw his hesitation and even though not actually reading his mind, knew what he was thinking so she said as an explanation, "this," she waved her hand indicating the grove of trees they were sitting in, "isn't much of a shelter. Any heat sensing devices could locate us." She looked up. "And I doubt we'd be shielded from a high density spot light, either." She looked back at her husband. "We have no shelter from the elements and some of the clouds I noticed earlier looked kind of threatening. There's nothing to eat and we don't dare build a fire which may make us vulnerable to any cougars, bear or coyotes and we have no weapons. It's downhill so it won't be that hard." She stopped and took a breath. "I just think it would be better, since we still haven't heard the choppers, not to sit and wait, but just go on." She raised an eyebrow in question when she saw that Duncan had a strange smile on his face, one she couldn't read. "What?" She asked.

Duncan listened to Caitlin's monologue, first with curiousness, then with amazement and finally pride and as he listened and watched her a smile came to his face. For the past three years, he had been convinced that he remembered every aspect of his wife's personality, but now he realized that hadn't been completely true. He had forgotten how...when a situation got tough, so did his Caitlin. The more tense the situation, the more dangerous, the stronger, calmer and more clear headed she seemed to become. Just as she was now.

In answer to her question of "what?" he simply shook his head, reached up and gently moved a strand of her hair off of her forehead. Then he asked in a soft and loving voice, "what about your headache?"

Caitlin blinked in surprise. She had not even mentioned that it had returned and had been careful not to show any sign of it, not wanting to worry Duncan (or at least she thought she had).

Duncan's smile grew and he nodded as he said, "yes. I know it's back."

She wrinkled her nose at him and pretended a sneer. "It's going to get worse whether we stay here or not. And I don't know about you, but, if I'm going to go through what I went through last week, I'd rather know that we are closer to finding out why than we are now."

Duncan traced the line of her jaw and his eyes grew misty. Caitlin looked at him and asked, "what? What's wrong?"

Duncan shook his head again. "Nothing. Nothing at all," he said. "I guess I had forgotten just how amazing you are."

Caitlin blushed, and lowered her eyes shyly. "Yeah, right," she said. "I'm just being logical."

Duncan nodded, placed his index finger under her chin and raised it up so he could make eye contact. "I know," he whispered. "Most women would be basket cases by now."

Caitlin's eyes twinkled mischievously as she said, "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not most women."

Duncan couldn't help but grin. It was the kind of answer you'd expect from her. He nodded, "yes. I have noticed. Which is one of the many reasons that I love you so much." Duncan winked.

"Okay. Can we dispense with the mushy stuff for right now?" She said partly teasing. "I vote we go on to where ever you're taking us."

Duncan smiled and sat forward. "Alright. If you're sure you feel up to it."

Caitlin got to her feet to prove the point and Duncan followed. "So which way?" She asked.

Duncan took her hand and said, "we follow the stream a ways. If my bearings are right we should come to a bridge. The road that crosses that bridge will take us to a friend's house. I think he'll help us. He sort of owes me one."

"Is this an Immortal friend?" Caitlin asked as she strained to see where Duncan was placing his feet in the darkness.

"No. Avery is mortal," Duncan answered and in anticipation of her next question said, "It's a long story. I'll tell you later."

Caitlin conceded, content to concentrate on where she was stepping. She didn't want to turn an ankle, possibly breaking it, which would seriously slow them down until it healed.

To Be Continued


End file.
